In Death A Hero, As In Life

Fame, Wealth, And Honour! What Are You To Love?

Fortune In Men Has Some Small Diff'rence Made, One Flaunts In Rags, One Flutters In Brocade, The Cobbler Apron'd, And The Parson Gown'd, The Friar Hooded, And The Monarch Crown'd.

To Be, Contents His Natural Desire, He Asks No Angel's Wing, No Seraph's Fire; But Thinks, Admitted To That Equal Sky, His Faithful Dog Shall Bear Him Company. Go Wiser Thou! And In Thy Scale Of Sense Weigh Thy Opinion Against Providence.

Oft In Dreams Invention We Bestow To Change A Flounce Or Add A Furbelow.

Love, Free As Air, At Sight Of Human Ties, Spreads His Light Wings, And In A Moment Flies.