The good can never be unfortunate.
And be this maxim graven in thy mind;
The height of virtue is, to serve mankind.
But when old age has silver'd o'er thy head,
When memory fails, and all thy vigour's fled,
Then mayst thou seek the stillness of retreat,
Then hear aloof the human tempest beat;
Then will I greet thee to my woodland cave,
Allay the pangs of age, and smooth thy grave.
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