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Think you if Laura had been Petrarch's wife
He would have written sonnets all his life?
Think you if Laura had been Petrarch's wife
He would have written sonnets all his life?
Who will sell the Cow, must say the word.
Who will sell the Cow, must say the word.
You stick in the same mire.
You stick in the same mire.
Swiftly our pleasures glide away,
Our hearts recall the distant day
With many sighs.
Swiftly our pleasures glide away,
Our hearts recall the distant day
With many sighs.
What's gone, and what's past help,
Should be past grieve.
What's gone, and what's past help,
Should be past grieve.
Happie is hee that chastens himselfe.
Happie is hee that chastens himselfe.
Who overcomes
By force, hath overcome but half his foe.
Who overcomes
By force, hath overcome but half his foe.
