Our years Glide silently away. No tears, No loving orisons repair The wrinkled cheek, the whitening hair That drop forgotten to the tomb.
It is said that the propriety even of old Cato often yielded to the exciting influence of the grape.
The earth opens impartially her bosom to receive the beggar and the prince.
Live as brave men and face adversity with stout hearts.
Shun an inquisitive man, he is invariably a tell-tale.
Money amassed either serves us or rules us.