The tender leaves of hope, to-morrow blossoms,

And bears his blushing honors thick upon him;

The third day, comes a frost, a killing frost;

And,--when he thinks, good easy man, full surely

His greatness is ripening,--nips his root,

And then he falls, as I do.

King Henry VIII. -- III. 2.

Some are born great, some achieve greatness,

and some have greatness thrust upon them.

Twelfth Night -- II. 5.