“Happy the man, and happy he alone, He who can call today his own: He who, secure within, can say, Tomorrow do thy worst, for I have lived today.”

“Happy the man, and happy he alone,he who can call today his own:he who, secure within, can say,Tomorrow do thy worst, for I have lived today.Be fair or foul, or rain or shinethe joys I have possessed, in spite of fate, are mine.Not Heaven itself, upon the past has power,but what has been, has been, and I have had my hour.”

“Errors, like straws, upon the surface flow; He who would search for pearls, must dive below.”

“Of no distemper, of no blast he died, But fell like autumn fruit that mellowed long — Even wondered at, because he dropped no sooner. Fate seemed to wind him up for fourscore years, Yet freshly ran he on ten winters more; Till like a clock worn out with eating time, The wheels of weary life at last stood still.”

“But far more numerous was the herd of such,Who think too little, and who talk too much.”

“Those who write ill, and they who ne'er durst write,Turn critics out of mere revenge and spite.”

“Roused by the lash of his own stubborn tail, Our lion now will foreign foes assail.”