Love Letters of Great Men

I am restless; and a man’s restlessness always means a woman;

Believe me, nothing on earth is given without labour, even love, the most beautiful and natural of feelings.

Alas, my poetry has no great powers, my lips are inadequate to sing your worth—If I had any innate vigor long ago, it is extinct, quenched by enduring sorrows—or you would be first among the sacred heroines, seen to be first, for the virtues of your heart.