Colpo ch’ad un sol noccia unqua non scende, Ma indiviso è il dolor d’ogni ferita. E spesso è l’un ferito, e l’altro langue: E versa l’alma quel, se q… - Torquato Tasso

Amor, leggan pur gli altri
Le Socratiche carte,
Ch'io in due begl'occhi apprenderò quest'arte.

Hadst thou but tasted once the thousandth part
Of joys, which bless the loved and loving heart,
Your words repentant and your sighs would prove,
Lost is the time which is not past in love.

Great Carthage low in ashes cold doth lie,
Her ruins poor the herbs in height scant pass,
So cities fall, so perish kingdoms high,
Their pride and pomp lies hid in sand and grass:
Then why should mortal man repine to die,
Whose life, is air; breath, wind; and body, glass?