Wine comes in at the mouth And love comes in at the eye; That's all we shall know for truth Before we grow old and die.

Wine comes in at the mouth And love comes in at the eye; That's all we shall know for truth Before we grow old and die

Man can embody truth but he cannot know it.

I think it better that in times like these a poet's mouth be silent, for in truth we have no gift to set a statesman right.

I hear the wind a blowI hear the grass a grow,And all that I know, I know.But I will not speak, I will run away.

I think it better that at times like theseWe poets keep our mouths shut, for in truthWe have no gift to set a statesman right;He's had enough of meddling who can pleaseA young girl in the indolence of her youthOr an old man upon a winter's night.