Hope thou not much, and fear thou not at all.
While three men hold together, the kingdoms are less by three.
Time turns the old days to derision, Our loves into corpses or wives; And marriage and death and division Make barren our lives.
Glory to Man in the highest! For Man is the master of things.
From too much love of living, From hope and fear set free, We thank with brief thanksgiving Whatever gods may be That no life lives for ever; That dead men rise up never; That even the weariest river Winds somewhere safe to sea.
Body and spirit are twins: God only knows which is which.
To say of shame - what is it? Of virtue - we can miss it; Of sin-we can kiss it, And it's no longer sin.