When Love Could Teach A Monarch To

To Contemplation's Sober Eye. / Such Is The Race Of Man.

The Paths Of Glory Lead But To The Grave.

From Helicon's Harmonious Springs A Thousand Rills Their Mazy Progress Take.

He Pass'd The Flaming Bounds Of Place And Time: The Living Throne, The Sapphire Blaze, Where Angels Tremble While They Gaze, He Saw; But Blasted With Excess Of Light, Closed His Eyes In Endless Night.

The Different Steps And Degrees Of Education May Be Compared To The Artificer's Operations Upon Marble; It Is One Thing To Dig It Out Of The Quarry, And Another To Square It, To Give It Gloss And Lustre, Call Forth Every Beautiful Spot And Vein, Shape It Into A Column, Or Animate It Into A Statue.