Think naught a trifle, though it small appear; Small stands the mountain, moments make the year, and trifles life.
Souls made of fire, and children of the sun, With whom revenge is virtue.
Who combats with a brother, wounds himself.
A Deity believed, is joy begun; A Deity adored, is joy advanced; A Deity beloved, is joy matured. Each branch of piety delight inspires.
Death loves a shining mark, a signal blow.
Fond man! the vision of a moment made! Dream of a dream! and shadow of a shade!