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THE CENTURY OF LIFE
A CONTRAST
The dog may servile fawn upon the hand That feeds him, with his tail at wag, nor pain In crouching and his abject rollings bland With upward face and belly all in vain: The elephant to countless flatteries Returns a quiet look in steadfast eyes.
THE WHEEL OF LIFE
The world goes round and, as returns the wheel, All things that die must yet again be born: Fis birth is birth indeed by whose return
His race and country grandeur’s summits scale.
AUT CAESAR AUT NULLUS
Two fates alone strong haughty minds endure, Of worth convinced ;—on the world’s forehead proud Singly to bloom exalted o’er the crowd,
Or wither in the wilderness obscure.
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