I'm weary of conjectures,—this must end 'em.

Thus am I doubly armed: my death and life,

My bane and antidote, are both before me:

This in a moment brings me to an end;

But this informs me I shall never die.

The soul, secured in her existence, smiles

At the drawn dagger, and defies its point.

The stars shall fade away, the sun himself

Grow dim with age, and Nature sink in years;

But thou shalt flourish in immortal youth,

Unhurt amidst the war of elements,

The wrecks of matter, and the crush of worlds.

Joseph Addison (1672-1719): Cato. Act v. Sc. 1.

Up! up! my friend, and quit your books,

Or surely you 'll grow double!

Up! up! my friend, and clear your looks!

Why all this toil and trouble?

William Wordsworth (1770-1850): The Tables Turned.

Here the heart

May give a useful lesson to the head,

And Learning wiser grow without his books.

William Cowper (1731-1800): The Task. Book vi. Winter Walk at Noon. Line 85.

Our youth we can have but to-day,

We may always find time to grow old.

Bishop Berkeley (1684-1753): Can Love be controlled by Advice?

They please, are pleas'd; they give to get esteem,

Till seeming blest, they grow to what they seem.

Oliver Goldsmith (1728-1774): The Traveller. Line 266.

May I govern my passion with absolute sway,

And grow wiser and better as my strength wears away.

Walter Pope (1630-1714): The Old Man's Wish.