Death Is A Sleep That Ends Our

While Life Is In Your Body, You Have The Rein Of All Thoughts In Your Hands.

Those Spacious Regions Where Our Fancies Roam, Pain'd By The Past, Expecting Ills To Come, In Some Dread Moment, By The Fates Assign'd, Shall Pass Away, Nor Leave A Rack Behind; And Time's Revolving Wheels Shall Lose At Last The Speed That Spins The Future And The Past: And, Sovereign Of An Undisputed Throne, Awful Eternity Shall Reign Alone.

Love Is The Crowning Grace Of Humanity, The Holiest Right Of The Soul, The Golden Link Which Binds Us To Duty And Truth, The Redeeming Principle That Chiefly Reconciles The Heart To Life, And Is Prophetic Of Eternal Good.

How Quick The Old Woe Follows A Little Bliss!

Virtue Is Health, Vice Is Sickness.