Reason Saw Not, Till Faith

Riches Cannot Rescue From The Grave, Which Claims Alike The Monarch And The Slave.

Be Fair, Or Foul, Or Rain, Or Shine, The Joys I Have Possessed, In Spite Of Fate, Are Mine. Not Heaven Itself Upon The Past Has Power; But What Has Been, Has Been, And I Have Had My Hour.

And He, Who Servilely Creeps After Sense, Is Safe, But Ne'er Will Reach An Excellence.

But Wild Ambition Loves To Slide, Not Stand, And Fortune's Ice Prefers To Virtue's Land.

Fortune's Unjust; She Ruins Oft The Brave, And Him Who Should Be Victor, Makes The Slave.