When pain can't bless, heaven quits us in despair.
Ocean into tempest wrought, To waft a feather, or to drown a fly.
Angels are men of a superior kind; Angels are men in lighter habit clad.
In an active life is sown the seed of wisdom... And age, if it has not esteem, has nothing.
Youth is not rich in time; it may be poor; Part with it as with money, sparing; pay No moment but in purchase of its worth, And what it's worth, ask death-beds; they can tell.
Affliction is the good man's shining scene; prosperity conceals his brightest ray; as night to stars, woe lustre gives to man.