Other Vices Make Their Own Way; This

Gaze Not On Beauty Too Much, Lest It Blast Thee; Nor Too Long, Lest It Blind Thee; Nor Too Near, Lest It Burn Thee. If Thou Like It, It Deceives Thee; If Thou Love It, It Disturbs Thee; If Thou Hunt After It, It Destroys Thee. If Virtue Accompany It, It Is The Heart's Paradise; If Vice Associate It, It Is The Soul's Purgatory. It Is The Wise Man's Bonfire, And The Fool's Furnace.

My Soul, What's Lighter Than A Feather? Wind. Than Wind? The Fire. And What Than Fire? The Mind. What's Lighter Than The Mind? A Thought. Than Thought? This Bubble World. What Than This Bubble? Nought.

Before Thy Undertaking Of Any Design, Weigh The Glory Of Thy Action With The Danger Of The Attempt; If The Glory Outweigh The Danger, It Is Cowardice To Neglect It; If The Danger Exceed The Glory, It Is Rashness To Attempt It; If The Balances Stand Poised, Let Thy Own Genius Cast Them.

Let The Foundation Of Thy Affection Be Virtue, Then Make The Building As Rich As Glorious As Thou Canst; If The Foundation Be Beauty Or Wealth, And The Building Virtue, The Foundation Is Too Weak For The Building, And It Will Fall: Happy Is He, The Palace Of Whose Affection Is Founded Upon Virtue, Walled With Riches Glazed With Beauty, And Roofed With Honor.

No Labor Is Hard, No Time Is Long, Wherein The Glory Of Eternity Is The Mark We Level At.