Chapter 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."