O che gentile Scongiuro hà ritrovato questo sciocco Di rammentarmi la mia giovanezza, Il ben passato, e la presente noia. - Torquato Tasso

Risorgero nemico ognor piu crudo, Cenere anco sepolto, e spirto ignudo!

The sacred armies, and the godly knight,
That the great sepulchre of Christ did free,
I sing; much wrought his valor and foresight,
And in that glorious war much suffered he;
In vain 'gainst him did Hell oppose her might,
In vain the Turks and Morians armed be:
His soldiers wild, to brawls and mutinies prest,
Reduced he to peace, so Heaven him blest.

Non bisogna la morte,
Ch'astringer nobil cuore,
Prima basta la fede, e poi l'amore.