Let All Thy Joys Be As The

Read Not Books Alone, But Men, And Amongst Them Chiefly Thyself. If Thou Find Anything Questionable There, Use The Commentary Of A Severe Friend, Rather Than The Gloss Of A Sweet-lipped Flatterer There Is More Profit In A Distasteful Truth Than In Deceitful Sweetness.

For Trash And Toys, And Grief-engend'ring Joys, What Torment Seems Too Sharp For Flesh And Blood; What Bitter Pills, Compos'd Of Real Ills, Men Swallow Down To Purchase One False Good!

Even Such Is Man, Whose Glory Lendshis Life A Blaze Or Two, And Ends.

Anger May Repast With Thee For An Hour, But Not Repose For A Night; The Continuance Of Anger Is Hatred, The Continuance Of Hatred Turns Malice.

Even As The Needle That Directs The Hour, (touched With The Loadstone) By The Secret Power Of Hidden Nature, Points Upon The Pole; Even So The Wavering Powers Of My Soul, Touch'd By The Virtue Of Thy Spirit, Flee From What Is Earth, And Point Alone To Thee.