The man of wisdom is the man of years.
Satire recoils whenever charged too high; round your own fame the fatal splinters fly.
A Christian is the highest style of man.
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.
Life's cares are comforts; such by Heav'n design'd; He that hath none must make them, or be wretched.
Early, bright, transient, chaste as morning dew, She sparkled, was exhaled, and went to heaven.