Did I Request Thee, Maker, From My

From Morn To Noon He Fell, From Noon To Dewy Eve,- A Summer's Day; And With The Setting Sun Dropp'd From The Zenith Like A Falling Star.

Death Is The Golden Key That Opens The Palace Of Eternity.

By Labor And Intent Study (which I Take To Be My Portion In This Life), Joined With The Strong Propensity Of Nature, I Might Perhaps Leave Something So Written To After-times, As They Should Not Willingly Let It Die.

Rocks Whereon Greatest Men Have Oftest Wreck'd.

A Good Principle Not Rightly Understood May Prove As Hurtful As A Bad.