Peace hath her victories, no less renowned than War.
Most men admire Virtue who follow not her lore.
Death is the golden key that opens the palace of eternity.
Spirits that live throughout, Vital in every part, not as frail man, In entrails, heart or head, liver or reins, Cannot but by annihilating die.
His sleep Was aery light, from pure digestion bred.
And feel that I am happier than I know.