He Look'd In Years, Yet In His

To Die Is Landing On Some Distant Shore.

When I Consider Life, 't Is All A Cheat. Yet Fool'd With Hope, Men Favour The Deceit; Trust On, And Think To-morrow Will Repay. To-morrow 's Falser Than The Former Day; Lies Worse, And While It Says We Shall Be Blest With Some New Joys, Cuts Off What We Possest. Strange Cozenage! None Would Live Past Years Again, Yet All Hope Pleasure In What Yet Remain; And From The Dregs Of Life Think To Receive What The First Sprightly Running Could Not Give.

No King Nor Nation One Moment Can Retard The Appointed Hour.

The Conscience Of A People Is Their Power.

So The False Spider, When Her Nets Are Spread, Deep Ambushed In Her Silent Den Does Lie.