What Greater Pain Could Mortals Have Than

Oh, Trebly Blest The Placid Lot Of Those Whose Hearth Foundations Are In Pure Love Laid, Where Husband's Breast With Tempered Ardor Glows, And Wife, Oft Mother, Is In Heart A Maid!

If One Must Do A Wrong, It's Best To Do It Pursuing Power-otherwise, Let's Have Virtue.

Poverty Possesses This Disease; Through Want It Teaches A Man Evil.

There Is No Harbor Of Peace From The Changing Waves Of Joy And Despair.

Human Misery Must Somewhere Have A Stop; There Is No Wind That Always Blows A Storm.