Truth never was indebted to a lie

Tis immortality, 'tis that alone, Amid life's pains, abasements, emptiness, The soul can comfort, elevate, and fill. That only, and that amply this performs.

Fame is the shade of immortality, And in itself a shadow. Soon as caught, Contemn'd; it shrinks to nothing in the grasp.

Affliction is a good man's shining time.

O let me be undone the common way, And have the common comfort to be pity'd, And not be ruin'd in the mask of bliss, And so be envy'd, and be wretched too!

The bell strikes one. We take no note of time But from its loss.

The blood will follow where the knife is driven, The flesh will quiver where the pincers tear.