Vain, weak-built isthmus, which dost proudly rise Up between two eternities!
What shall I do to be for ever known, And make the age to come my own?
Enjoy the present hour, Be thankful for the past, And neither fear nor wish Th' approaches of the last.
Of all ills that one endures, hope is a cheap and universal cure.
Come, my best Friends! my Books! and lead me on.
Life is an incurable disease.