Death! great proprietor of all! 'tis thine To tread out empire, and to quench the stars.

Friendship's the wine of life: but friendship new... is neither strong nor pure.

Narcissus is the glory of his race: For who does nothing with a better grace?.

Ne'er to meet, or ne'er to part, is peace.

How poor, how rich, how abject, how august, how complicate, how wonderful is man! Distinguished link in being's endless chain! Midway from nothing to the Deity! Dim miniature of greatness absolute! An heir of glory! A frail child of dust! Helpless immortal! Insect infinite! A worm! A God!

Let no man trust the first false step of guilt; it hangs upon a precipice, whose steep descent in last perdition ends.

Some for renown, on scraps of learning dote, And think they grow immortal as they quote.