So many worlds, so much to do, so little done, such things to be."

"Now slides the silent meteor on, and leaves
A shining furrow, as thy thoughts in me."

"Theirs not to make reply,
Theirs not to reason why,
Theirs but to do and die."

Tis better to have loved and lost
Than never to have loved at all.

Our little systems have their day;
They have their day and cease to be.