Monuments, Like Men, Submit To Fate.

Fix'd Like A Plant On His Peculiar Spot, To Draw Nutrition, Propagate And Rot.

And Die Of Nothing But A Rage To Live.

It Is Not So Much The Being Exempt From Faults, As Having Overcome Them, That Is An Advantage To Us.

At Ev'ry Word A Reputation Dies.

How Loved, How Honored Once, Avails Thee Not, To Whom Related, Or By Whom Begot A Heap Of Dust Alone Remains Of Thee 'tis All Thou Art, And All The Proud Shall Be!