Remember the joy of those fine summer nights.
To Eleanora:
Spring is not far away. Walk in green solitude
Between your alder rows, and think ...
As in the oft-repeated lesson
The young birds' cry shall bear my longing;
And when the west wind plays with cheek and dress be sure
He tells me of thy longing, and kisses thee a thousand times for me.
In a time of despair, he wrote:
Storm, rage and tear! winds of misfortune, shew all your tyranny!