Nor life, nor fire, which could the scene rejoice,
Nor grace of form, nor harmony of voice?
As fades the tree round which the ivy twines,
So in the clasp of age my strength declines.”
“All are not always first—few have been known
To rest long on the summit of renown.
In fame we faster fall than we ascend:
I fall—who follows, thus his course must end.”
“Democritus, the philosophic sage
Of Abdera, deep read in Nature’s page,