And Tears Are Heard Within The Harp

A Good Death Does Honour To A Whole Life.

For Virtue Only Finds Eternal Fame.

You Keep To Your Own Ways And Leave Mine To Me.

Sameness Is The Mother Of Disgust, Variety The Cure.

Those Spacious Regions Where Our Fancies Roam, Pain'd By The Past, Expecting Ills To Come, In Some Dread Moment, By The Fates Assign'd, Shall Pass Away, Nor Leave A Rack Behind; And Time's Revolving Wheels Shall Lose At Last The Speed That Spins The Future And The Past: And, Sovereign Of An Undisputed Throne, Awful Eternity Shall Reign Alone.