No human thing in constancy will stay;
The learned Chian us'd of old to say,
Our life was frailer than the fading leaves;
Which Man forgets, and scarce its flight perceives
He harbours idle fancies in his brain,
Many which he from childhood did retain:
And whilst his vigour lasts, he's still inclin'd
To fill with trifles his unsettled mind;
On Age or d**h ne'er thinks, nor takes he care
Health to preserve, or active limbs to spare.
We to more serious things our minds should give;
Youth hastes, and we have little time to live.
To weigh this well, is a material part,
This thought's of worth, record it in thy heart.