Check Disease In Its Approach.

For Yesterday Was Once To-morrow.

Our Life Is Our Own To-day, To-morrow You Will Be Dust, A Shade, And A Tale That Is Told. Live Mindful Of Death; The Hour Flies.

Oh, The Cares Of Men! How Much Emptiness There Is In Human Concerns!

Out Of Nothing Can Come, And Nothing Can Become Nothing.

Lives There The Man With Soul So Dead As To Disown The Wish To Merit The People's Applause, And Having Uttered Words Worthy To Be Kept In Cedar Oil To Latest Times, To Leave Behind Him Rhymes That Dread Neither Herrings Nor Frankincense.