For Him Who Must See Many Years, I Praise The Life Which Slips Away Out Of The Light And Mutely; Which Avoids Fame, And Her Less Fair Followers, Envy, Strife, Stupid Detraction, Jealousy, Cabal, Insincere Praises; Which Descends The Quiet Mossy Track To Age. But, When Immature Death Beckons Too Early The Guest From The Half-Tried Banquet Of Life, Young, In The Bloom Of His Days; Leaves No Leisure To Press, Slow And Surely, The Sweets Of A Tranquil Life In The Shade; Fuller For Him Be The Hours! Give Him Emotion, Though Pain! Let Him Live, Let Him Feel: I Have Lived! Heap Up His Moments With Life, Triple His Pulses With Fame!