There are some feelings time cannot benumb, Nor torture shake.
A thirst for gold, The beggar's vice, which can but overwhelm The meanest hearts.
Father of Light! great God of Heaven! Hear'st thou the accents of despair? Can guilt like man's be e'er forgiven? Can vice atone for crimes by prayer.
Good but rarely came from good advice.
What is Death, so it be but glorious? 'Tis a sunset; And mortals may be happy to resemble The Gods but in decay.
Have not all past human beings parted, And must not all the present, one day part?