Blessed Is The Man Who

He Best Can Paint Them Who Shall Feel Them Most.

Virtue May Choose The High Or Low Degree, 'tis Just Alike To Virtue, And To Me; Dwell In A Monk, Or Light Upon A King, She's Still The Same Belov'd, Contented Thing.

So Perish All Who Do The Like Again.

When I Die, I Should Be Ashamed To Leave Enough To Build Me A Monument If There Were A Wanting Friend Above Ground. I Would Enjoy The Pleasure Of What I Give By Giving It Alive And Seeing Another Enjoy It.

Heaven Forming Each On Other To Depend, A Master, Or A Servant, Or A Friend, Bids Each On Other For Assistance Call, Till One Man's Weakness Grows The Strength Of All.