Just think! some night the stars will gleam Upon a cold, grey stone, And trace a name with silver beam, And lo! ‘twill be your own. This night is speeding on to greet Your epitaphic rhyme. You life is but a little beat Within the heart of Time. A little gain, a little pain, A laugh, lest you may moan; A little blame, a little flame, A star-gleam on a stone.