We Love To Overlook The Boundaries Which

Piety Is The Only Proper And Adequate Relief Of Decaying Man. He That Grows Old Without Religions Hopes, As He Declines Into Imbecility, And Feels Pains And Sorrows Incessantly Crowding Upon Him, Falls Into A Gulf Of Bottomless Misery, In Which Every Reflection Must Plunge Him Deeper And Deeper.

Wine Makes A Man Better Pleased With Himself. I Do Not Say That It Makes Him More Pleasing To Others.

Deign On The Passing World To Turn Thine Eyes, And Pause Awhile From Letters, To Be Wise.

We Love To Overlook The Boundaries Which We Do Not Wish To Pass.

Sleep Undisturbed Within This Peaceful Shrine, Till Angels Wake Thee With A Note Like Thine.