Creation sleeps! 'T is as the general pulse Of life stood still, and Nature made a pause,- An awful pause! prophetic of her end.

A Christian is the highest style of man.

Man makes a death which Nature never made. And feels a thousand deaths in fearing one.

They build too low who build beneath the skies.

A land of levity is a land of guilt.

Titles are marks of honest men, and wise; The fool or knave that wears a title lies.

What most we wish, with ease we fancy near.