He is a perpetual fountain of good sense.
Courage from hearts and not from numbers grows.
These are the effects of doting age,--vain doubts and idle cares and over caution.
Happy the man, and happy he alone, he, who can call today his own.
Nothing to build, and all things to destroy.
…So when the last and dreadful hour This crumbling pageant shall devour, The trumpet shall be heard on high, The dead shall live, the living die, And Music shall untune the sky