Plato

Says Plato why should man be vain? Since bounteous Heav'n has made him great! Why looketh he with insolent disdain On those undeck'd with wealth or state! Can splendid robes or beds of down, Or costly gems that deck the fair? Can all the glories of a crown, Give health, or ease the brow of care?

The scepter'd king, the burthen'd slave, The humble and the haughty die; The rich, the poor, the base, the brave, In dust without distinction lie. Go, search the tombs where monarch's rest, Who once the greatest titles bore: The wealth and glory they possest, And all their honours are no more.

So glides the meteor through the sky, And spreads along a guilded train: But, when its short liv'd beauties die, Dissolves to common air again. So 'tis with us, my jovial souls, Let Friendship reign white here stay, Let's crown our joys with flowing bowls, When Jove commands we must away.