Short is the time the oldest Being lives,
Nor has Longevity one _hour_ to waste;
Life's duties are proportion'd to the haste
With which it fleets away;--each day receives
Its task, that if neglected, surely gives
The morrow _double_ toil.--Ye, who have pass'd
In idle sport the days that fled so fast,
Days, that nor Grief recalls, nor Care retrieves,
At length be wise, and think, that of the part
Remaining in that vital period given,
How short the date, and at the prospect start,
Ere to the extremest verge your steps be driv'n!
Nor let a moment unimprov'd depart,
But view it as the _latest_ trust of Heav'n!