I would, with kindness, all my wrongs repay, Until the penitent should weep, and say, And talked about poison, in accents so wild, How injured, and how faithful I had been! So very like torture, you started-and smiled. DISCOVERIES. From time to time, a Not have me! Not love me! Oh, what have I chosen hand, sometimes directed by chance, All natural nourishment did I not shun ?[ done? but more commonly guided by reflection, exMy figure is wasted; my spirits are lost: [ghost.periment and research, touches a spring, ti!! then unperceived; and through what seemed And my eyes are deep sunk, like the eyes of a a blank and impenetrable wall,--the barrier Remember, remember-ay, madam, you must--to all further progress,--a door is thrown I once was exceedingly rtout, and robust; I rode by your palfrey, I came at your call, And nightly went with you, to banquet and ball. Not have me! Not love me! Rejected! Refused! Sure, never was lover so strangely ill-used! Consider my presents-I don't mean to boastBut, madam, consider the money they cost!

728. No ExCELLENCE WITHOUT LABOR. The education, moral, and intellectual, of every individual, must be, chiefly, his own work. Rely upon it, that the ancients were right-Quisque suæ fortunæ faber-both in morals, and intellect, we give their final shape to our own characters, and thus become, emphatically, the architects of our own fortunes. How else could it happen, that young men, who have had precisely the same opportunities, should be continually presenting us, with such different results, and rushing to such opposite destinies? Difference of talent will not solve it, because that difference very often is in favor of the disappointed candidate. You shall see, issuing from the walls of the same college-nay, sometimes from the bosom of the same family-two young men, of whom the one-shall be admitted to be a genius of high order, the other, scarcely above the point of mediocrity; yet you shall see the genius sinking and perishing in poverty, obscurity, and wretchedness: while, on the other hand, you shall observe the mediocre, plodding his slow, but sure way-up the hill of life, gaining steadfast footing at every step, and mounting, at length, to eminence and distinction, an ornament to his family, a blessing to his country. Now, whose work is this? Manifestly their own. They are the architects of their respective fortunes. The best seminary of learning, that can open its portals to you, can do no more than to afford you the opportunity of instruction: but it must depend, at last, on yourselves, whether you will be instructed or not, or to what point you will push your instruction. And of this be assured-I speak, from observation, a certain truth: there is no excellence without great labor. It is the fiat of fate, from which no power of genius can absolve you. Genius, unexerted, is like the poor moth that flutters around a candle, till it scorches itself to death. If genius be desirable at all, it is only of that great and magnanimous kind, which, like the condor of South America, pitches from the summit of Chimborazo, above the clouds, and sustains itself, at pleasure, in that empyreal region, with an energy-rather invigorated, than weakened, by the effort. It is this capacity for high and long-continued exertion-this vigorous power of profound and searching investigation-this careering and wide-spreading comprehension of mind, and those long reaches of thought, that

"-Plue bright honor from the pale-faced moon,
Or dive into the bottom of the deep,
Where fathom line cou i never touch the ground,
And drag up drowned onor by the iock"
This is the prowess, and these the hardy
achievements, which are to enroll your names
among the great men of the earth.-Wirt.

723. LIFE IS REAL.

Tell me not-in mournful numbers,
Life is but an empty dream!
For the soul is dead-that slumbers,
And things are not-what they seem.

Life is real! Life is earnest!

And the grave-is not its goal;
Dust thou art, to dust returnest,
Was not written of the soul.

Not enjoyment, and not sorrow,
Is our destined end, and way,
BRONSON. 20

2 c2

But to act, that each to-morrow
Find us farther-than to-day.
Art is long, and time is fleeting,

And our hearts, though stout and brave, Still, like mutlled drums, are beating

Funeral marches-to the grave.

In the world's broad field of battle,
In the bivouac of life,
Be not like dumb, driven cattle!
Be a hero-in the strife!
Trust not future, howe'er pleasant!
Let the dead past-bury its dead'
Act!-act in the living present!

Heart-within, and God-o'er head.
Lives of great men-all remind us

We can make our lives sublime,
And, departing, leave behind us
Footsteps-on the sands of time;
Footsteps, that perhaps another,

Sailing o'er life's solemn main,
A forlorn and shipwreck'd brother,
Seeing, shall take heart again.
Let us, then, be up and doing,

With a heart for any fate;
Still achieving, still pursuing,

Learn to labor, and to wait.--Longfellow. 724. DIGNITY OF HUMAN NATURE. In forming our notions of human nature, we are very apt to make a comparison betwixt men, and animals, which are the only creatures, endowed with thought, that fall under our senses. Certainly, this comparison is very favorable to mankind! On the one hand, we see a creature, whose thoughts-are not limited, by the narrow bounds, either of place. or time, who carries his researches-into the most distant regions of this globe, and beyond this globe, to the planets, and heavenly bo dies; looks backward-to consider the first origin of the human race; casts his eyes forward-to see the influence of his actions upon posterity, and the judgments which will be formed of his character-a thousand years hence: a creature, who traces causes and effects-to great lengths and intricacy; extracts general principles from particular appearances; improves upon his discoveries, corrects his mistakes, and makes his very errors profitable. On the other hand, we are presented with a creature-the very reverse of this; limited in its observations and reason. ings-to a few sensible objects which surround it; without curiosity, without foresight, blindly conducted by instinct, and arriving, in a very short time, at its utmost perfection, beyond which it is never able to advance & single step. What a difference is there be twixt these creatures! and how exalted a notion must we entertain of the former in comparison of the latter.-Hume.

SURE REWARDS FOR VIRTUE.

There is a morning to the tomb's long night
A dawn of glory, a reward in heaven,
He shall not gain, who never merited.

If thou didst know the worth of one good deed
In life's last hour, thou wouldst not bid me lose
The power to benefit. If I but save

A drowning fly, I shall not live in vain..

I had rather see some women praised extraordi narily, than to see any of them suffer by detraction.

I have, also, understood that judges, sometimes, think it they fur to hear, with patience, and to speak with humanity; to enxori the victim of the laws, and to offer, with tender benignity hu opinions of the motives, by which he was actuated in the crime, of which he had been adjudged guilty; that a judge has thought A his duty so to have done, I have no doubt-but where is the boast ed freedom of your institutions, where is the vaunted impartiality, clemency, and mildness of your courts of justice? if an unfortunate prisoner, whom your policy, and not pure justice, is about to deliv er into the hands of the executioner, is not suffered to explain his motives, sincerely and truly, and to vindicate the principles, ty

which he was actuated.

My lords, it may be a part of the system of angry justice, to bos a man's mind by humiliation-to the purposed ignom, ny of the scaffold; but worse to me than the purposed shame, or the scaf fold's terrors, would be the shanie of such foul and unfounded im

725. EMMET'S VINDICATION-IN FULL. My Lords-What have I to say, why sentence of death should not be be pronounced on me, according to law? I have nothing to say, that can alter your predetermination, nor that it will become me to say, with any view to the mitigation of that sentence, which you are here to pronounce, and I must abide by. But I have that to say, which interests me more than life, and which you have labored, (as was necessarily your office in the present circumstances of this oppressed country,) to destroy. I have much to say, why my reputation should be rescued-from the load of false accusation and calumny, which has been heaped upon it. I do not imagine that, seated where you are, your minds can be so free from impurity, as to receive the least impression-from what I am going to utter I have no hopes, that I can anchor my character-in the breast of a court, constituted and trammeled as this is-I only wish, and the utmost I expec., that your lordships-may suffer it to Boat down your memories, untainted by the foul breath of preju-putations-as have been laid against me in this court: you, my dice, until it finds some more hospitable harbor-to snelter it from the storm, by which it is at present buffeted. Was I only to suffer death, after being adjudged guilty by your tribunal-I should bow in silence, and meet the fate that awaits me, without a murmurbut the sentence of the law, which delivers my body to the executioner, will, through the ministry of that law, labor, in its own vindication, to consign my character to obloquy-for there must be guilt somewhere: whether in the sentence of the court, or in the catastrophy, posterity must determine. A man, in my situation, my lords, has not only to encounter the difficulties of fortune, and the force of power over minds, which it has corrupted, or subjugated, but, the difficulties of established prejudice.-The man dies, but his memory lives: that mine may not perish, that it may live, in the respect of my countrymen, I seize upon this opportunity-to dicate myself from some of the charges alleged against me. When my spirit shall be wafted to a more friendly port; when my shade shall have joined the bands of those martyred heroes, who have shed their blood on the scaffold, and in the field, in defence of their country, and of virtue, this is my hope; I wish that my memory and name-may animate those, who survive me, while I ook down, with complacency, on the destruction of that perfidicus government, which upholds its domination by blasphemy of the Most High-which displays its power over man, as over the beasts of the forest-which sets man upon his brother, and lifts his hand, in the name of God, against the throat of his fellow, who believes, or doubts, a little more, or a little less, than the govern ment standard-a government, which is steeled to barbarity by the cries of the orphans, and the tears of the widows which it has made.

[Here, Lord Norbury interrupted Mr. Emmet, saying, that the mcan and wicked enthusiasts who felt as he did, were not equal to the accomplishment of their wild designs.

-I appeal to the immaculate God-I swear by the throne of Heaven, before which I must shortly appear-by the blood of the murdered patriots, who have gone before me-that my conduct has been, through all this peril, and all my purposes, governed on. ly, by the convictions which I have uttered, and by no other view, than that of their cure, and the emancipation of my country-from the superinbuman oppression, under which she has so long, and too atiently travailed; and that I confidently and assuredly hope, that, wild and chimerical as it may appear, there is still union and strength in Ireland to accomplish this noblest enterprise. Of this, I speak with the confidence of intimate knowledge, and with the consolation that appertains to that confidence. Think not, my lord, I say this for the petty gratification of giving you a transitory uneasiness; a man, who never yet raised his voice to assert a lie, will not hazard his character with posterity, by asserting a falsehood on a subject, so important to his country, and on an occasion like Jas. Yes, my ords, a man who does not wish to have his epitaph written, until his country liberated, will not leave a weapon in the power of envy; nor a pretence to impeach the probity, which Le means to preserve, even in the grave-to which tyranny conagus him.

[Here, he was again interrupted, by the court.] Again, I say, that what I have spoken, was not intended for your lordship, whose situation I commiserate-rather than envy-my expressions were for my countrymen: if there is a true Irishman present, let my last words cheer him in the hour of his afflic 000

{Here, he was again interrupted. Lord Norbury said he did not sit there to hear trass;n,]

I have alwave understand it to be the duty of a judge, when a sræoner has been convicted, to prunounce the sentence of the law;

lord, are a judge, I an. the supposed culprit; I am a man, you are
a man, also; by a revolution of power, we might change places,
though we never could change characters; if I stand at the bar of
this court, and dare not vindicate my character, what a farce 12
your justice? If I stand at this bar and dare not vindicate
character, how dare you calumniate it? Does the sentence of
death, which your unhallowed policy inflicts upon my body, also
condemn my tongue to silence, and my reputation to reproach?
Your executioner may abridge the period of my existence, but
while I exist, I shall not forbear to vindicate my character, and
motives-from your aspersions; and, as a man to whom faune is
dearer than life, I will make the last use of that life, in doing jus-
tice to that reputation, which is to live after me, and which is the
only legacy I can leave to those I honor and love, and for whom I
am proud to perish. As men, my lord, we must appear on the
great day, at one common tribual, and it will then remain-for the
searcher of ali hearts-to show a collective universe, who wse
engaged in the most virtuous actions, or actuated by the purest me
tives-my country's oppressors or—
[Here, he was interrupted, and told to listen to the sentence of
the law.]

My lord, will a dying man be denied the legal privilege of excul pating himself, in the eyes of the community, of an undeserved reproach, thrown upon him during his trial, by charging him with ambition, and attempting to cast away, for a paltry consideration, the liberties of his country? Why did your lordship insult me? or rather why insult justice, in demanding of me, why sentence of death should not be pronounced? I know, my lord, that form pre scribes that you should ask the question; the form also presume a right of answering. This, no doubt, may be dispensed with-and so might the whole ceremony of the trial, since sentence was pronounced at the castle, before your jury was empanelled; your lordships are but the priests of the oracle, and I submit ; but I insist on the whole of the forms.

[Here the court desired him to proceed.]

I am charged with being an emissary of France! An entisary of France! And for what end? It is alleged that I wished to sell the independence of my country! And for what end? Was this the object of my ambition! And is this the node by which a tr bunal of justice reconciles contradictions? No, I am no enissar7; and my ambition was-to hold a place among the deliverers of my country; not in power, nor in profit, but in the glory of the achieve ment! Sell my country's independence to France! And for what Was it for a change of masters? No! But for ambition! 0, ny country, was it personal ambition that could influence me! Had it been the soul of my actions, could I not, by my education and fortune, by the rank and consideration of my family, have placed mysil among the proudest of my oppressors? My country was my idol; to it I sacrificed every selfish, every endearing sentiment; and for it, I now offer up my life. O God! No, my lord; I acted a Irishman, determined on delivering my country-from the yoke of a foreign, and unrelenting tyranny, and from the more galling voke of a domestic faction, which is its joint partner and perpe trator, in the parricide, for the ignominy of existing with an exte rior of splendor, and of couscious depravity. It was the wish og my heart to extricate any country, from this doubly riveted despot

ism.

I wished to place her independence beyond the reach of any pow. er on earth; I wished to exalt you to that proud stabon in the world. Connection with France was indeed intended, but only as far £8 mutual interest would sanction, or require. Were they to acsCITUE any authority, inconsistent with the purest independence, it would be the signal for their destruction; we sought aid, and we sought it

we had assurances we should obtain it; as auxillaries, in war--| have, even for a moment, deviated om those pracip es of mo and allies, in peace.

Were the French to come as invaders, or enemies, uninvited by the wishes of the people, I should oppose them to the utmost of my strength. Yes, my countrymen, I should advise you to meet them on the beach, with a sword in one hand, and a torch in the sther; I would meet them with all the destructive fury of war; and I would animate my countrymen to immolate them in their boats, before they had contaminated the soil of my country. If they succeeded in landing, and if forced to retire before superior discipline, I would dispute every inch of ground, burn every blade of gs, and the last intrenchment of liberty should be my grave. What I could not do myself, if I should fall, I should leave as a leet darge to my countrymen to accomplish; because I should feel conecions that life, any more than death, is unprofitable, when a foreign nation holds my country in subjection.

But it was not as an enemy-that the succors of France were to Land: looked indeed for the assistance of France; but I wished to prove to France, and to the world, that Irishmen-deserve to be asisted! That they were indignant at slavery, and ready to assert e independence and liberty of their country.

I wished to procure for my country the guarantee, which Washgton procured for America. To procure an aid, which, by its example, would be as important as its valor; disciplined, gallant, pregnant with science and experience; who would perceive the good, and polish the rough points of our character; they would ecme to us as strangers, and leave us as friends, after sharing in our perils, and elevating our destiny. These were my objects, not to receive new task-masters, but to expel old tyrants; these were my views, and theee only became Irishmen. It was for these ends I sought aid from France, because France, even as an enemy, could not be more implacable than the enemy already in the bosom of my country.

[Here he was interrupted by the court.]

I have been charged-with that importance in the efforts-to emancipate my country, as to be considered the key-stone of the combination of Irishmen, or, as your lordship expressed it, "the life and blood of conspiracy." You do me honor over-much: You have given to the subaltern-all the credit of a superior. There are men engaged in this conspiracy, who are not only superior to me, but even to your own conceptions of yourself, my lord; men, before the splendor of whose genius and virtues, I should bow with respectful deference, and who would think themselves dishonored to be called-your friend-who would not disgrace themselves by u.aking your blood-stained hand

[Here he was interrupted.]

What, my lord, shall you tell me, on the passage to the scaffold, which that tyranny, of which you are only the intermediary executioner, has erected for my murder,-that I am accountable for all the blood that has, and will be shed, in this struggle of the oppres sed-against the oppressor ?-shall you tell me this-and must I be so very a slave-as not to repel it?

I do not fear to approach the omnipotent Judge, to answer for the conduct of my whole life; and am I to be appalled and falsified by a mere remnant of mortality here? by you too, who, if it were possible to collect all the innocent blood that you have shed in your unhallowed ministry, in one great reservoir, your lordship might swim in it.

[Here the judge interfered.]

Let no man dare, when I am dead, to charge me with dishonor! let no man attaint my memory, by believing that I could have engaged in any cause but that of my country's liberty and indepen. dence; or, that I could have become the pliant minion of power, in the oppression, or the miseries, of my countrymen. The proclamation of the provisional government speaks for our views; no inference can be tortured from it, to countenance barbarity, or aebasement at home, or subjection, humiliation, or treacnery from abroad: I would not have submitted to a foreign: oppressor, for the ame reason that I would resist the foreign and domestic oppressor; in the dignity of freedom, I would have fought upon the threshold of my country and its enemy should enter-only by passing over my lifeless cor se. Am I, who lived but for my country and wno Dave subjected myself to the dangers of the jealous and watchful ppressor, and the bondage of the grave, only to give my corntrymen their rights, and my country her independence, and am I be baded with calumny, and not suffered to resent or repel it-No God forbid!

If the spir ts-of the illustrious dead—participate in the concerns, and cores of those, who are dear to them-in this transitory life-O ever dear-and venerated shade-of my departed father, look down with scrutiny, upon the conduct of your suffering son; and see if I

rality and patriotism, which it was your care to instilte my youthful mind; and for which I am now to offer up my life.

My lords, you are impatient for the sacrifice-the blood, which
you seek, is not congealed by the artificial terrors which surround
your victim; it circulates warmly and unruffled, through the char
nels, which God created for noble purposes, but which you are bent
to destroy, for purposes so grievous, that they cry to heaven →→
Be yet patient! I have but a few words more to say.-I an going
to my cold-and silent grave: my lamp of life-is nearly extin
guished; my race is run: the grave opens to receive me, and
sink into its bosom! I have but one request to ask at my departur
from this world,-it is ths charity of its silence!-Let no man wr 2
my epitaph: for, as no man, who knows my motives, dare w
vindicate them, let not prejudice or ignorance asperse them. Le
them, and me, repose in obscurity, and peace, and my tomb remain
uninscribed, until other times, and other men, can do justice to my
character: when my country takes her place among the natione
the earth, then-and not till then-let my epitaph be written-
have done.
726. LUCY.

Three years she grew, in sun, and shower,
Then, Nature said, "a lovelier flower,

On earth, was never sown;
This child I, to myself, will take;
She shall be mine, and I will make-
A lady of my own.

Myself will, to my darling, be
Both law, and impulse: and with me,
The girl, on rock and plain,

In earth, and heaven, in glade, and bower,
Shall feel an overseeing power,

To kindle, and restrain.

She shall be sportive, as the fawn,
That, wild with glee, across the lawn,

Or up the mountain, springs;
And hers, shall be the breathing balm,
And hers, the silence, and the calm-
Of mute, insensate things.

The floating clouds-their state shall lend
To her; for her-the willow bend;
Nor, shall she fail to see,
Even in the motions of the storm,
Grace, that shall mould the maiden's form,
By silent sympathy.

The stars of midnight--shall be dear
To her; and she shall lean her ear,
In many a secret place,

Where rivulets dance their wayward round;
And beauty, born of murmuring sound,
Shall pass into her face.

And vital feelings of delight-
Shall rear her form-to stately height,
Her virgin bosom swell;
Such thoughts, to Lucy, I will give.
While she, and I, together live,

Here, in this happy dell."
Thus Nature spake. The work was done-
How soon my Lucy's race was run!

She died, and left to me
This heath, this calm, and quiet scene;
The memory--of what has been,

And never more--will be.- Wordsworth. When thou doest good, do it because it is good; not because men esteem it so. When thou avoidest evil, flee from it because it is evil; not because men speak against it. Be honest for the love of honesty, and thou shalt be uniformly so. He that doeth it without principle-is wavering.

787. CICIKO'S ORATION AGAINST VERRES. I ask now, Verres, what have you to advance against this charge? Will you pretend to deny it? Will you pretend that any thing false, that even anything aggravated-is alleged against you? Had any prince, or any state, committed the same outrage against the privileges of Roman citizens, should we not think we had sufficient reason-for declaring immediate war against them? What punishment, then, ought to be inflicted on a tyrannical and wicked prætor, who dared, at no greater distance than Sicily, within sight of the Italian coast, to put to the infamous death of crucifixion, that unfortunate and innocent citizen, Publius Gavius Cosanus, only for his having asserted his privilege of citizenship, and declared his intention of appealing to the justice of his country, against a cruel oppressor, who had unjustly confined him in prison, at Syracuse, whence he had just made his escape? The unhappy man, arrested as he was going to embark for his native country, is brought before the wicked prætor. With eyes darting fury, and a countenance distorted with cruelty, he orders the helpless victim of his rage to be stripped, and rods to be brought; accusing him, but with out the least shadow of evidence, or even of suspicion, of having come to Sicily as a spy. It was in vain, that the unhappy man cried out, "I am a Roman citizen, I have served under Lucius Pretius, who is now at Panormus, and will attest my innocence." The bloodthirsty prætor, deaf to all that he could urge in his own defence, ordered the infamous punishment to be inflicted. Thus, fath-We sunk thus low!-The accent is easy ther: ers, was an innocent Roman citizen publicly mangled, with scourging; whilst the only words he uttered amidst his cruel sufferings were, "I am a Roman citizen!" With these he hoped to defend himself from violence, and infamy. But of so little service was this privilege to him, that while he was asserting his citizenship, the order was given for his execution,--for his execution upon the cross! O liberty! O sound, once delightful to every Roman ear! O sacred privilege of Roman citizenship! once-sacred, now--trampled upon! But what then! is it come to this? Shall an inferior magistrate, a governor, who holds his power of the Roman people, in a Roman province, within sight of It aly, bind, scourge, torture with fire and redhot plates of iron, and at last put to the infamous death of the cross, a Roman citizen? Shall neither the cries of innocence, expiring in agony, nor the tears of pitying spectators, nor the majesty of the Roman commonwealth, nor the justice of his country, restrain the licentious and wanton cruelty of a monster, who, in confidence of his riches, strikes at the root of liberty and sets mankind at defiance?

728. MOLOCT'S ORATION FOR WAR.
My sentence-is for open war: of whes,
More unexpert, I boast not; them, let those
Contrive, who need; or, when they need; not now
For while they sit contriving, shall the rest,
Millions, that stand in arms, and longing, wait
The signal to ascend, sit lingering here,
Heaven's fugitives, and for their dwelling-place,
Accept this dark, opprobrious den of shame,
The prison of his tyranny, who reigns
By our delay! No,-let us rather choose,
Armed with hell-flames, and fury, all at once,
O'er heaven's high towers, o force resistle way,
Turning our tortures, into horrid arms-
Against the torturer; when, to meet the noise
Of his almighty engine, he shall hear
Infernal thunder; and, for lightning, see
Black fire and horror-shot, with equal rage,
Among his angels: and his throne, itself,
Mixed with Tartarean sulphur, and strange fire,
His own invented torments.-But, perhaps,
The way seems difficult, and steep to scale,
With upright wing, against a higher foe.
Let such bethink them, if the sleepy drench,
Of that forgetful lake-benumb not still,
That in our proper motion, we ascend
Up to our native seat: descent, and fall,
To us-is adverse. Who, but felt of late,.
When the fierce foe-hung on our broken rear,
Insulting, and pursued us, through the deep,
with what compulsion, and laborious fight,

VANITY.

-O, vanity,

How are thy painted beauties doted on,
By light and empty idiots! how pursued
With open and extended appetite!

How they do sweat and run themselves from breath,
Raised on their toes. to catch thy airy forms,
Still turning giddy, till they reel like drunkards,
That buy the merry madness of one hour
With the long irksomeness of following time.
Time flies and never dies.

The event is feared:-should we again provoke
Our stronger, some worse way his wrath may find,
To our destruction; if there be, in heil,
Fear to be worse destroyed.--What can be worse,
Than to dwell here, driven out from bliss,condemn'
In this abhorred deep-to utter wo;
Where pain of unextinguishable fire
Must exercise us, without hope of end,
The vassals of his anger, when the scourge
Inexorable, and the torturing hour
Call us to penance ?-Mcre destroyed than thus,
We should be quite abolished, and expire.
What fear we then?--What doubt we to incense
is utmost ire! which, to his height, enraged,
Will either quite consume us, or reduce
To nothing this essential; happier far,
Than miserable to have eternal being;
Or, if our substance be indeed divine,
And cannot cease to be, we are, at worst.
On this side nothing; and, by proof, we feel
Our power sufficient, to disturb his heaven,
And, with perpetual inroad, to alarm,
Though inaccessible, his fatal throne;
Which, if not victory, is yet revenge.-Milor,

THIS WORLD.

"Tis a sad world," said one, "a world of wooe, Where sorrow--reigns supreme." Yet froin my The all-sustaining hope did not depart; [hear!

But, to its impulse true. I answered-"No!
The world hath much of good-nor seldom, joy
Over our spirits-broods with radiant wing;
Gladness from grief, and life from death may
Treasures are ours the grave cannot destroy,[spring:
Then chide not harshly-our instructress stern.
Whose solemn lessons-wisdom bids us learn "