But If There Be An Hereafter,and That There Is, Conscience, Uninfluenc'dand Suffer'd To Speak Out, Tells Every Man,then Must It Be An Awful Thing To Die;more Horrid Yet To Die By One's Own Hand.
The Best-concerted Schemes Men Lay For Fame, Die Fast Away: Only Themselves Die Faster. The Far-fam'd Sculptor, And The Laurell'd Bard, Those Bold Insurancers Of Deathless Fame, Supply Their Little Feeble Aids In Vain.
That Discipline Which Corrects The Eagerness Of Worldly Passions, Which Fortifies The Heart With Virtuous Principles, Which Enlightens The Mind With Useful Knowledge, And Furnishes To It Matter Of Enjoyment From Within Itself, Is Of More Consequence To Real Felicity Than All The Provisions Which We Can Make Of The Goods Of Fortune.
The Grave, Dread Thing! Men Shiver When Thou'rt Named: Nature Appalled, Shakes Off Her Wonted Firmness.
Throughout The Whole Vegetable, Sensible, And Rational World, Whatever Makes Progress Towards Maturity, As Soon As It Has Passed That Point, Begins To Verge Towards Decay.
The Tap'ring Pyramid, The Egyptian's Pride, And Wonder Of The World, Whose Spiky Top Has Wounded The Thick Cloud.
How Shocking Must Thy Summons Be, O Death, To Him That Is At Ease In His Possessions! Who, Counting On Long Years Of Pleasure Here, Is Quite Unfurnished For The World To Come.
Industry Is Not Only The Instrument Of Improvement, But The Foundation Of Pleasure. He Who Is A Stranger To It May Possess, But Cannot Enjoy, For It Is Labor Only Which Gives Relish To Pleasure. It Is The Indispensable Condition Of Possessing A Sound Mind In A Sound Body, And It Is The Appointed Vehicle Of Every Good To Man.
