Raise high the roof-beam, carpenters. Like Ares comes the bridegroom, taller far than a tall man.
Love – bittersweet, irrepressible – loosens my limbs and I tremble.
For some the fairest thing on the dark earth is Thermopylae,And the Spartan phalanx lowering lances to die.
Experience shows us Wealth unchaperoned by Virtue is never an innocuous neighbor.
Whatever one loves most is beautiful.
There is no place for grief in a house which serves the Muse.
Stand and face me, my love,and scatter the grace in your eyes.
No honey for me, if it comes with a bee.
Death is an ill; ’tis thus the Gods decide: / For had death been a boon, the Gods had died.
All the while, believe me, I prayed our night would last twice as long.
He who is fair to look upon is good, and he who is good will soon be fair also.
Death must be an evil and the gods agree; for why else would they live for ever?
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