Heaven, The Seat Of Bliss, Brooks Not

Meadows Trim With Daisies Pied, Shallow Brooks And Rivers Wide Towers And Battlements It Sees Bosom'd High In Tufted Trees, Where Perhaps Some Beauty Lies, The Cynosure Of Neighboring Eyes.

Hope Elevates, And Joy Brightens His Crest.

Heaven Is For Thee Too High To Know What Passes There; Be Lowly Wise. Think Only What Concerns Thee And Thy Being; Dream Not Of Other Worlds, What Creatures There Live, In What State, Condition, Or Degree, Contented That Thus Far Hath Been Revealed.

Have Hung My Dank And Dropping Weeds To The Stern God Of Sea.

Death Is The Golden Key That Opens The Palace Of Eternity.