Methinks Sometimes I Have No More Wit

We Are Time's Subjects, And Time Bids Be Gone.

Love That Well Which Thou Must Leave Ere Long.

He Is Winding The Watch Of His Wit; By And By It Will Strike.

Tis The Eye Of Childhood That Fears A Painted Devil.

Be Lion-mettled, Proud, And Take No Care Who Chafes, Who Frets, Or Where Conspirers Are!