How blessings brighten as they take their flight.
The melancholy ghosts of dead renown, Whispering faint echoes of the world's applause.
A prince indebted is a fortune made.
Prayer ardent opens heaven.
The chamber where the good man meets his fate Is privileg'd beyond the common walk Of virtuous life, quite in the verge of heaven.
What tender force, what dignity divine, what virtue consecrating every feature; around that neck what dross are gold and pearl!