Two sentiments alone suffice for man, were he to live the age of the rocks - love, and the contemplation of the Deity.

Tis the voice of the sluggard I heard him complain,You have wak'd me too soon, I must slumber again.

Earth, thou great footstool of our God, who reigns on high; thou fruitful source of all our raiment, life, and food; our house, our parent, and our nurse.

I have been there, and still would go; 'T is like a little heaven below.

As a man may be eating all day, and for want of digestion is never nourished, so these endless readers may cram themselves in vain with intellectual food.

When I can read my title clear To mansions in the skies, I'll bid farewell to every fear, And wipe my weeping eyes.

Thoughts, like old vultures, prey upon their heart-strings