We wish our names eternally to live; Wild dream! which ne'er had haunted human thought, Had not our natures been eternal too.

As in smooth oil the razor best is whet, So wit is by politeness sharpest set; Their want of edge from their offence is seen, Both pain us least when exquisitely keen.

We push time from us, and we wish him back; * * * * * * Life we think long and short; death seek and shun.

They most the world enjoy who least admire.

Ocean into tempest wrought, To waft a feather, or to drown a fly.

'T is greatly wise to talk with our past hours, And ask them what report they bore to heaven.

What tender force, what dignity divine, what virtue consecrating every feature; around that neck what dross are gold and pearl!