Along The Cool Sequestered Vale

To Each His Suff'rings; All Are Men, Condemn'd Alike To Groan,- The Tender For Another's Pain, Th' Unfeeling For His Own. Yet Ah! Why Should They Know Their Fate, Since Sorrow Never Comes Too Late, And Happiness Too Swiftly Flies? Thought Would Destroy Their Paradise. No More; Where Ignorance Is Bliss, 't Is Folly To Be Wise.

Thought Would Destroy Their Paradise.

Large Was His Bounty, And His Soul Sincere, Heaven Did A Recompense As Largely Send: He Gave To Mis'ry (all He Had) A Tear, He Gained From Heav'n ('t Was All He Wish'd) A Friend.

Behind The Steps That Misery Treads Approaching Comfort View: The Hues Of Bliss More Brightly Glow Chastised By Sabler Tints Of Woe, And Blended Form, With Artful Strife, The Strength And Harmony Of Life.

Hell Is Full Of Good Intentions.