The proper study of mankind is man.
Tell, for you can, what is it to be wise,
Sweet Auburn, loveliest village of the plain!
“The man of Ross,” each lisping babe replies,
And drags, at each remove a length’ning chain.
Ah, who can tell how hard it is to climb
Far as the solar walk, or milky way?
Procrastination is the thief of time,
Let Hercules himself do what he may.
’Tis education forms the common mind,