Reader, attend—whether thy soul
Soars fancy's flights above the pole,
Or darkly grubs this earthly hole,
In low pursuits:
Know prudent, cautious self-control
Is wisdom's root.
BURNS.
The king is the man who can.—CARLYLE.
I have only one counsel for you—Be master.—NAPOLEON.
Ah, silly man, who dream'st thy honor stands
In ruling others, not thyself. Thy slaves
Serve thee, and thou thy slave: in iron bands
Thy servile spirit, pressed with wild passions, raves.
Wouldst thou live honored?—clip ambition's wing:
To reason's yoke thy furious passions bring:
Thrice noble is the man who of himself is king.
PHINEAS FLETCHER.
"Not in the clamor of the crowded street,
Not in the shouts and plaudits of the throng,
But in ourselves are triumph and defeat."