Think what you owe your country, what yourself.
If splendor charm not, yet avoid the scorn
That treads on lowly stations. Think of some
Assiduous booby mounting o'er your head,
And thence with saucy grandeur looking down:
Think of (Reflection's stab!) the pitying friend
With shoulder shrug'd, and sorry. Think that Time
Has golden minutes, if discreetly seiz'd:
And if some sad example, indolent,
To warn and scare be wanting — think of me.