Monuments, Like Men, Submit To Fate.

Be Not The First By Whom The New Are Tried, Nor Yet The Last To Lay The Old Aside.

Atheists Put On False Courage And Alacrity In The Midst Of Their Darkness And Apprehensions, Like Children Who, When They Fear To Go In The Dark, Will Sing For Fear.

Lend, Lend Your Wings! I Mount! I Fly! O Grave! Where Is Thy Victory? O Death! Where Is Thy Sting?

Hear How The Birds, On Ev'ry Blooming Spray, With Joyous Musick Wake The Dawning Day.

Age And Want Sit Smiling At The Gate.