Classic Poem

Life is so little in its vanities,
So mean, and looking to such worthless aim,
Truly the dust, of which we are a part,
Predominates amid mortality.
Great crimes have something of nobility;
Mighty their warning, vast is their remorse;
But these small faults, they make one half of life
Belong to lowest natures, and reduce
To their own wretched level nobler things.