Prepare For Death, If Here

Pope Had Been Flattered Till He Thought Himself One Of The Moving Powers Of The System Of Life. When He Talked Of Laying Down His Pen, Those Who Sat Round Him Intreated And Implored; And Self-love Did Not Suffer Him To Suspect That They Went Away And Laughed.

Philips, Whose Touch Harmonious Could Remove The Pangs Of Guilty Power And Hapless Love! Rest Here, Distress'd By Poverty No More; Here Find That Calm Thou Gav'st So Oft Before; Sleep Undisturb'd Within This Peaceful Shrine, Till Angels Wake Thee With A Note Like Thine!

To Neglect At Any Time Preparation For Death Is To Sleep On Our Post At A Siege; To Omit It In Old Age Is To Sleep At An Attack.

There Are Few Minds To Which Tyranny Is Not Delightful.

Spring Is The Season Of Gaiety, And Winter Of Terror; In Spring The Heart Of Tranquility Dances To The Melody Of The Groves, And The Eye Of Benevolence Sparkles At The Sight Of Happiness And Plenty: In Winter, Compassion Melts At Universal Calamity, And The Tear Of Softness Starts At The Wailing Of Hunger And The Cries Of The Creation In Distress