Whose yesterdays look backwards with a smile.
The man who consecrates his hours by vigorous effort, and an honest aim, at once he draws the sting of life and Death; he walks with nature; and her paths are peace.
To frown at pleasure, and to smile in pain.
They only babble who practise not reflection
As soon as we have found the key of life, it opens the gates of death.
Ah, how unjust to Nature and himself Is thoughtless, thankless, inconsistent man!