1 min read
Vis Medicatrix Naturae
When Faith turns false and Fancy grows unkind,
And Fortune, more from fickleness than spite,
Takes the keen savour out of all delight,
And of sweet pulp leaves only bitter rind,
Read more
When Faith turns false and Fancy grows unkind,
And Fortune, more from fickleness than spite,
Takes the keen savour out of all delight,
And of sweet pulp leaves only bitter rind,
Истинно тот есть любимец богов, кто жизни весною
Миртом главы не венчал, кого только в грезах манила
Нежной рукой золотая царица Китеры
Дарами