Fickle Fortune reigns, and, undiscerning, scatters crowns and chains.

Where's the man who counsel can bestow, still pleased to teach, and yet not proud to know.

Thus let me live, unseen, unknown, Thus unlamented let me die, Steal from the world, and not a stone Tell where I lie.

Age and want sit smiling at the gate.

How vast a memory has Love!

All Nature is but art, unknown to thee All chance, direction, which thou canst not see; All discord, harmony not understood; All partial evil, universal good.

No writing is good that does not tend to better mankind in some way or other.