As night to stars, woe lustre gives to man.
There buds the promise of celestial worth.
The person of wisdom is the person of years.
The love of praise, howe'er conceal'd by art, Reigns more or less, and glows in ev'ry heart.
Titles are marks of honest men, and wise; The fool or knave that wears a title lies.
One eye on death, and one full fix'd on heaven.