All Things Are Subject To Decay And

One Of The Greatest, Most Noble, And Most Sublime Poems Which Either This Age Or Nation Has Produced.

Revealed Religion First Informed Thy Sight, And Reason Saw Not Till Faith Sprung To Light.

Of No Distemper, Of No Blast He Died, But Fell Like Autumn Fruit That Mellow'd Long: Even Wonder'd At, Because He Dropp'd No Sooner. Fate Seem'd To Wind Him Up For Fourscore Years; Yet Freshly Ran He On Ten Winters More; Till Like A Clock Worn Out With Eating Time, The Wheels Of Weary Life At Last Stood Still.

There Is A Proud Modesty In Merit.

The Trumpet's Loud Clangor Excites Us To Arms.