Though A Man Cannot Abstain From Being

To A Man Of Pleasure Every Moment Appears To Be Lost, Which Partakes Not Of The Vivacity Of Amusement.

Nations With Nations Mix'd Confus'dly Die, And Lost In One Promiscuous Carnage Lie.

When All Thy Mercies, O My God, My Rising Soul Surveys, Transported With The View I'm Lost, In Wonder, Love And Praise.

There Are No More Useful Members In A Commonwealth Than Merchants. They Knit Mankind Together In A Mutual Intercourse Of Good Offices, Distribute The Gifts Of Nature, Find Work For The Poor, And Wealth To The Rich, And Magnificence To The Great.

I Will Indulge My Sorrows, And Give Way To All The Pangs And Fury Of Despair.