But How Can Finite Grasp Infinity?

The Winds That Never Moderation Knew, Afraid To Blow Too Much, Too Faintly Blew; Or Out Of Breath With Joy, Could Not Enlarge Their Straighten'd Lungs Or Conscious Of Their Charge.

Murder May Pass Unpunishd For A Time, But Tardy Justice Will Oertake The Crime.

War Seldom Enters But Where Wealth Allures.

Trust Reposed In Noble Natures Obliges Them The More.

Death Ends Our Woes, And The Kind Grave Shuts Up The Mournful Scene.