Let's learn to live, for we must die alone.

Good is done by degrees.

Her air, her manners, all who saw admir'd; Courteous though coy, and gentle though retir'd; The joy of youth and health her eyes display'd, And ease of heart her every look convey'd.

Oh how the passions, insolent and strong, Bear our weak minds their rapid course along; Make us the madness of their will obey; Then die and leave us to our griefs as prey!

And took for truth the test of ridicule.

Life is not measured by the time we live.

Our farmers round, well pleased with constant gain, like other farmers, flourish and complain.