Things won are done, joy’s soul lies in the doing.
One touch of nature makes the whole world kin.
Welcome ever smiles,
And farewell goes out sighing.
The common curse of mankind, folly and ignorance, be thine in great revenue! heaven bless thee from a tutor, and discipline come not near thee!
The baby figure of the giant mass
Of things to come.
The end crowns all,
And that old common arbitrator, Time,
Will one day end it.
His heart and hand both open and both free;
For what he has he gives, what thinks he shows;
Yet gives he not till judgment guide his bounty.