And What's A Life? - A Weary

Prize Not Thyself By What Thou Hast, But By What Thou Art; He That Values A Jewel By Her Golden Frame, Or A Book By Her Silver Clasps, Or A Man By His Vast Estate, Errs; If Thou Art Not Worth More Than The World Can Make Thee, Thy Redeemer Had A Bad Pennyworth, Or Thou An Uncurious Redeemer.

Wickedness Is Its Own Punishment.

The World Is Deceitful; Her End Is Doubtful, Her Conclusion Is Horrible, Her Judge Terrible, And Her Judgment Is Intolerable.

Even Such Is Man, Whose Glory Lendshis Life A Blaze Or Two, And Ends.

Death's A Fable. Did Not Heaven Inspire Your Equal Elements With Living Fire Blown From The Spring Of Life? Is Not That Breath Immortal? Come; Ye Are As Free From Death As He That Made Ye: Can The Flames Expire Which He Kindled?