You Know How Little While

Think, In This Batter'd Caravanserai Whose Portals Are Alternate Night And Day, How Sultan After Sultan With His Pomp Abode His Destin'd Hour And Went His Way.

A Hair Divides What Is False And True.

Myself When Young Did Eagerly Frequent Doctor And Saint, And Heard Great Argument About It And About: But Evermore Came Out By The Same Door As In I Went.

By Fate Full Many A Heart Has Been Undone, And Many A Sprightly Rose Made Woe-begone; Plume Thee Not On Thy Lusty Youth And Strength: Full Many A Bud Is Blasted Ere Its Bloom.

If I Don't Enjoy Myself Now, When Shall I?