Prompt to move but firm to wait - knowing things rashly sought are rarely found.

As generations come and go, Their arts, their customs, ebb and flow; Fate, fortune, sweep strong powers away, And feeble, of themselves, decay.

Miss not the occasion; by the forelock take that subtle power, the never-halting time.

She gave me eyes, she gave me ears; And humble cares, and delicate fears; A heart, the fountain of sweet tears; And love and thought and joy.

For youthful faults ripe virtues shall atone.

The child is father of the man: And I could wish my days to be Bound each to each by natural piety.

Whether we be young or old,Our destiny, our being's heart and home,Is with infinitude, and only there;With hope it is, hope that can never die,Effort and expectation, and desire,And something evermore about to be.