Extremes in nature equal ends produce; In man they join to some mysterious use.

The Dying Christian to His Soul (1712) -Vital spark of heav'nly flame! Quit, oh quit, this mortal frame: Trembling, hoping, ling'ring, flying, Oh the pain, the bliss of dying! Stanza 1.

Some judge of authors' names, not works, and then Nor praise nor blame the writings, but the men.

To wake the soul by tender strokes of art, To raise the genius, and to mend the heart

Curse on all laws but those which love has made.

How vast a memory has Love!

All are but parts of one stupendous whole, Whose body Nature is, and God the soul.