IV.

One day did Fortune call me to her side, "What are the things," she asked, "that thou hast done?" Then answered I, "Dear mistress, I have tried To grave them upon marble, every one." "Ah! maddest of the mad!" so she replied, "Better hadst writ on sand than wrought in stone; He who to marble should his love confide, Loves when he loves till all his wits are gone."