If such doom waits each intellectual Giant,

We little people in our lesser way,

In Life's small rubs should surely be more pliant,

And so for one will I—as well I may—

Would that I were less bilious—but, oh, fie on 't!

Just as I make my mind up every day,

To be a "totus, teres," Stoic, Sage,

The wind shifts and I fly into a rage.