Tis immortality, 'tis that alone, Amid life's pains, abasements, emptiness, The soul can comfort, elevate, and fill. That only, and that amply this performs.

Wonder is involuntary praise.

Where, where for shelter shall the guilty fly, When consternation turns the good man pale?

It is great and manly to disdain disguise; it shows our spirit and proves our strength.

The maid that loves goes out to sea upon a shattered plank, and puts her trust in miracles for safety.

The house of laughter makes a house of woe.

Thy purpose firm is equal to the deed: Who does the best his circumstance allows Does well, acts nobly; angels could no more.