Tired nature's sweet restorer, balmy sleep! He, like the world, his ready visit pays Where fortune smiles; the wretched he forsakes.
A foe to God ne'er was true friend to man, Some sinister intent taints all he does.
In an active life is sown the seed of wisdom... And age, if it has not esteem, has nothing.
Final Ruin fiercely drives Her ploughshare o'er creation.
One eye on death, and one full fix'd on heaven.
As soon as we have found the key of life, it opens the gates of death.