The Paths Of Glory Lead But To

Beyond The Limits Of A Vulgar Fate, Beneath The Good How Far,-but Far Above The Great.

He Pass'd The Flaming Bounds Of Place And Time: The Living Throne, The Sapphire Blaze, Where Angels Tremble While They Gaze, He Saw; But Blasted With Excess Of Light, Closed His Eyes In Endless Night.

To Each His Suff'rings; All Are Men, Condemn'd Alike To Groan,- The Tender For Another's Pain, Th' Unfeeling For His Own. Yet Ah! Why Should They Know Their Fate, Since Sorrow Never Comes Too Late, And Happiness Too Swiftly Flies? Thought Would Destroy Their Paradise. No More; Where Ignorance Is Bliss, 't Is Folly To Be Wise.

Dear As The Light That Visits These Sad Eyes, Dear As The Ruddy Drops That Warm My Heart.

One Principal Characteristic Of Vice In The Present Age Is The Contempt Of Fame.