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The fool or knave who wears a title lies.
The man how bless'd, who, sick of gaudy scenes,
(Scenes apt to thrust between us and ourselves,)
Is led by choice to take his fav'rite walk
Beneath death's gloomy, silent, cypress shades,
Unpierc'd by vanity's fantastic ray;
To read his monuments, to weigh his dust,
Visit his vaults, and dwell among the tombs.
The most magnificent and costly dome,
Is but an upper chamber to a tomb;
No spot on earth but has supplied a grave,
And human skulls the spacious ocean pave.
The nodding plume,
Which makes poor man's humiliation proud;
Boast of our ruin! triumph of our dust!
The purpose firm is equal to the deed.
The selfish heart deserves the pain it feels;
More gen'rous sorrow, while it sinks, exalts,
And conscious virtue mitigates the pang.
The soft whispers of the God in man.
The stars have fought their battles leagued with man.
The storehouse of the world.
The tree that bears no fruit deserves no name; the man of wisdom is the man of years.
The weak have remedies, the wise have joys; superior wisdom is superior bliss.
The world is all title-page without contents.
The world's all title-page; there's no contents;
The world's all face; the man who shows his heart
Is hooted for his nudities, and scorn'd.
The wretched impotence of gold.
Their methods various, but alike their aim; the sloven and the fopling are the same.
Their various cares in one great point combine
The business of their lives, that is--to dine.
There are no tricks in plain simple faith.-Shakespeare. Faith builds a bridge from this world to the next.
There is ever a certain languor attending the fulness of prosperity. When the heart has no more to wish, it yawns over its possessions, and the energy of the soul goes out, like a flame that has no more to devour.
There is nothing of which men are more liberal than their good advice, be their stock of it ever so small; because it seems to carry in it an intimation of their own influence, importance, or worth.
They most enjoy the world who least admire.
This prospect vast, what is it?--weigh'd aright,
'Tis nature's system of divinity,
And every student of the night inspires.
'Tis elder scripture, writ by God's own hand:
Scripture authentic! uncorrupt by man.
Thou shining supplement of public law!
Though wrong the mode, comply; more sense is shown in wearing others' follies than our own.
Thought discovered is the more possessed.
Thought in the mind may come forth gold or dross; when coined in words, we know its real worth.
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