Here closed in death th’ attentive eyes That saw the manners in the face.

When the hoary Sage replied, “Come, my lad, and drink some beer.”

With these [Love, Patience, Faith] celestial Wisdom calms the mind, And makes the happiness she does not find.

How small, of all that human hearts endure, That part which laws or kings can cause or cure! Still to ourselves in every place consign’d, Our own felicity we make or find.

“Enlarge my life with multitude of days!” In health, in sickness, thus the suppliant prays: Hides from himself his state, and shuns to know That life protracted is protracted woe.

Must helpless man, in ignorance sedate, Roll darkling down the torrent of his fate?

He left the name at which the world grew pale, To point a moral, or adorn a tale.

Deign on the passing world to turn thine eyes, And pause a while from learning to be wise. There mark what ills the scholar’s life assail— Toil, envy, want, the patron, and the jail.

Studious to please, yet not ashamed to fail.

Let observation with extensive view Survey mankind, from China to Peru. 2