There is nothing either good or bad, but thinking makes it so. Hamlet, Act ii.  Sc. 2.  SHAKESPEARE.

TIME.

    O Time! the beautifier of the dead,
    Adorner of the ruin, comforter
    And only healer when the heart hath bled—­
    Time! the corrector where our judgments err,
    The test of truth, love,—­soul philosopher,
    For all besides are sophists, from thy thrift
    Which never loses though it doth defer—­
    Time, the avenger! unto thee I lift
  My hands, and eyes, and heart, and crave of thee a gift.
Childe Harold, Canto IV.  LORD BYRON.

  The more we live, more brief appear
    Our life’s succeeding stages: 
  A day to childhood seems a year,
    And years like passing ages.

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  Heaven gives our years of fading strength
    Indemnifying fleetness;
  And those of youth, a seeming length,
    Proportioned to their sweetness.
The River of Life.  T. CAMPBELL.

    Yet Time, who changes all, had altered him
    In soul and aspect as in age; years steal
    Fire from the mind as vigor from the limb: 
  And life’s enchanted cup but sparkles near the brim.
Childe Harold, Canto III.  LORD BYRON.

Catch! then, O catch, the transient hour;
Improve each moment as it flies;
Life’s a short summer—­man a flower.
Winter:  An Ode.  DR. S. JOHNSON.

                 Come what come may,
  Time and the hour runs through the roughest day.
Macbeth, Act i.  Sc. 3.  SHAKESPEARE.

And then he drew a dial from his poke,
And, looking on it with lack-lustre eye,
Says very wisely, “It is ten o’clock: 
Thus may we see,” quoth he, “how the world wags: 
’T is but an hour ago since it was nine;
And after one hour more ’t will be eleven;
And so, from hour to hour, we ripe and ripe. 
And then, from hour to hour, we rot and rot;
And thereby hangs a tale.”
As You Like it, Act ii.  Sc. 7.  SHAKESPEARE.

  Seven hours to law, to soothing slumber seven,
  Ten to the world allot, and all to heaven.
Ode in Imitation of Alcaeus.  SIR W. JONES.

  Nought treads so silent as the foot of Time;
  Hence we mistake our autumn for our prime.
Love of Fame, Satire IV.  DR. E. YOUNG.

  Not one word more of the consumed time. 
  Let’s take the instant by the forward top;
  For we are old, and on our quick’st decrees
  The inaudible and noiseless foot of Time
  Steals ere we can effect them.
All’s Well that End’s Well, Act v.  Sc. 3.  SHAKESPEARE.

TOBACCO.

  Sublime tobacco! which from east to west. 
  Cheers the tar’s labor or the Turkman’s rest,

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