human
That none confess fair Virtue's genuine power, Or woo her to their breast without a dower.
gpt
Mors etiam saxis, nominibusque venit.
human
For fate hath foreordain'd its day of doom, Not to the tenant only, but the tomb.
gpt
How are the mighty changed to dust! how small The urn that holds what once was Hannibal!
human
Elephantos fert Africa, ferunt Æthiopes et Troglodytæ: sed maximos India.
gpt
Nil actum referens si quid superesset agendum.
human
Peace courts his hand, but spreads her charms in vain; 'Think nothing gain'd,' he cries, 'till naught remain; On Moscow's walls till Gothic standards fly, And all be mine beneath the Polar sky.'
gpt
Oh! for some master-hand, the lines to trace!