Find not their weight too heavy, when it stands
At that dread bar from whence is no appeal.
Lo, while ye trifle, the light sand steals on,
Leaving the hour-glass empty, and thy life
Glideth away;—stamp wisdom on its hours.
Mrs. Sigourney.
Few and precious are the words which the lips of wisdom utter;
To what shall their rarity be likened? what price shall count their worth?
Perfect and much to be desired, and giving joy with riches,
No lovely thing on earth can picture all their beauty.