The Lot Of Man - To Suffer

Sickness Is A Sort Of Early Old Age; It Teaches Us A Diffidence In Our Earthly State.

Soft O'er The Shrouds Aerial Whispers Breathe, That Seemed But Zephyrs To The Train Beneath.

Fear Not The Anger Of The Wise To Raise; Those Best Can Bear Reproof Who Merit Praise.

But Just Disease To Luxury Succeeds, And Ev'ry Death Its Own Avenger Breeds.

I Begin Where Most People End, With A Full Conviction Of The Emptiness Of All Sorts Of Ambition, And The Unsatisfactory Nature Of All Human Pleasures.