Angels are men of a superior kind; Angels are men in lighter habit clad.
Thy purpose firm is equal to the deed: Who does the best his circumstance allows Does well, acts nobly; angels could no more.
Night, sable goddess! from her ebon throne, In rayless majesty, now stretches forth Her leaden sceptre o'er a slumbering world.
Joys season'd high, and tasting strong of guilt.
We cry for mercy to the next amusement, The next amusement mortgages our fields
Virtue alone has majesty in death.