The purpose firm is equal to the deed
When pain can't bless, heaven quits us in despair.
O! lost to virtue, lost to manly thought, Lost to the noble sallies of the soul! Who think it solitude to be alone.
A dedication is a wooden leg.
Life is the desert, life the solitude, death joins us to the great majority.
Some go to Church, proud humbly to repent, And come back much more guilty than they went: One way they look, another way they steer, Pray to the Gods; but would have Mortals hear; And when their sins they set sincerely down, They'll find that their Religion has been one.