The weak have remedies, the wise have joys; superior wisdom is superior bliss.
Man wants but little, nor that little long; How soon must he resign his very dust, Which frugal nature lent him for an hour!
We nothing know, but what is marvellous; Yet what is marvellous, we can't believe.
When pain can't bless, heaven quits us in despair.
A foe to God ne'er was true friend to man, Some sinister intent taints all he does.
Night, sable goddess! from her ebon throne, In rayless majesty, now stretches forth Her leaden sceptre o'er a slumbering world.