It Is The Lot Of Man But

For Trash And Toys, And Grief-engend'ring Joys, What Torment Seems Too Sharp For Flesh And Blood; What Bitter Pills, Compos'd Of Real Ills, Men Swallow Down To Purchase One False Good!

Sweet Phosphor, Bring The Daywhose Conquering Raymay Chase These Fogs;sweet Phosphor, Bring The Day!sweet Phosphor, Bring The Day!light Will Repaythe Wrongs Of Night;sweet Phosphor, Bring The Day!

To Fear Death Is The Way To Live Long; To Lie Afraid Of Death Is To Be Long A Dying.

Flatter Not Thyself In Thy Faith In God If Thou Hast Not Charity For Thy Neighbor.

Lust Is A Sharp Spur To Vice, Which Always Putteth The Affections Into A False Gallop.