Glory, built on selfish principles, is shame and guilt.
In indolent vacuity of thought.
Some write a narrative of wars and feats, Of heroes little known, and call the rant A history.
To trace in Nature's most minute design The signature and stamp of power divine. ... The Invisible in things scarce seen revealed, To whom an atom is an ample field.
The few that pray at all pray oft amiss.
A fool must now and then be right, by chance