Think naught a trifle, though it small appear; Small stands the mountain, moments make the year, and trifles life.
The bell strikes one. We take no note of time But from its loss.
None think the great unhappy, but the great.
Death! great proprietor of all! 'tis thine To tread out empire, and to quench the stars.
He sins against this life, who slights the next.
It is great and manly to disdain disguise; it shows our spirit and proves our strength.