Men are but children of a larger growth.

Let cheerfulness on happy fortune wait.

Youth, beauty, graceful action seldom fail: But common interest always will prevail; And pity never ceases to be shown To him who makes the people's wrongs his own.

If you have lived, take thankfully the past. Make, as you can, the sweet remembrance last.

Humility and resignation are our prime virtues.

Beauty, like ice, our footing does betray; Who can tread sure on the smooth, slippery way: Pleased with the surface, we glide swiftly on, And see the dangers that we cannot shun.

Not Heav'n itself upon the past has pow'r; But what has been, has been, and I have had my hour.