Michael Eyquen de Montaigne

The pain
Remembrance gives, when the fix'd dart
Is stirred thus in the wound again.

The pain
Remembrance gives, when the fix'd dart
Is stirred thus in the wound again.

Whom conscience, ne'er asleep,
Wounds with incessant strokes, not loud, but deep.

Whom conscience, ne'er asleep,
Wounds with incessant strokes, not loud, but deep.

Bliss itself is not worth having,
If we're by compulsion blest.

Bliss itself is not worth having,
If we're by compulsion blest.

Amongst so many borrowed things, am glad if I can steal one,
disguising and altering it for some new read more

Amongst so many borrowed things, am glad if I can steal one,
disguising and altering it for some new service.

Round, round, while thus we go round,
The best thing a man can do,
Is to make read more

Round, round, while thus we go round,
The best thing a man can do,
Is to make it at least, a merry-go-round,
By--sending the wine round too.