Pleasures are like poppies spread: You seize the flow'r, its bloom is shed.

But pleasures are like poppies spread, You seize the flower, it's bloom is shed; Or, like the snow-fall in the river, A moment white, then melts forever.

The wide world is all before us - but a world without a friend.

An honest man here lies at rest, the friend of man the friend of truth the friend of age and guide of youth. Few hearts like his with virtue warmed, few heads with knowledge so informed. If there's another world, he lives in bliss. If there is none, he made the best of this.

Or like the snow falls in the river, A moment white-then melts for ever . . .

Nursing her wrath to keep it warm.--Robert Burns

If there 's a hole in a' your coats, I rede ye tent it; A chiel 's amang ye takin' notes, And, faith, he 'll prent it.