And can eternity belong to me, Poor pensioner on the bounties of an hour?
[The] public path of life Is dirty.
The man of wisdom is the man of years.
Tired nature's sweet restorer, balmy sleep! He, like the world, his ready visit pays Where fortune smiles; the wretched he forsakes.
Beautiful as sweet, And young as beautiful, and soft as young, And gay as soft, and innocent as gay!
Pygmies are pygmies still, though percht on Alps; And pyramids are pyramids in vales. Each man makes his own stature, builds himself. Virtue alone outbuilds the Pyramids; Her monuments shall last when Egypt's fall.