The Grave's A Fine And

And All The Way, To Guide Their Chime, With Falling Oars They Kept Their Time.

How Vainly Men Themselves Amaze To Win The Palm, The Oak, Or Bays; And Their Uncessant Labours See Crown'd From Some Single Herb Or Tree. Whose Short And Narrow Verged Shade Does Prudently Their Toils Upbraid; While All Flow'rs And All Trees Do Close To Weave The Garlands Of Repose.

So Much One Man Can Do That Does Both Act And Know.

Gather The Flowers, But Spare The Buds.

Had It Lived Long, Is Would Have Been Lilies Without, Roses Within.