Our Infinite Obligations To God Do Not

Since Trifles Make The Sum Of Human Things, And Half Our Misery From Our Foibles Springs; Since Life's Best Joys Consist In Peace And Ease, And Though But Few Can Serve, Yet All May Please; On, Let Th' Ungentle Spirit Learn From Hence, A Small Unkindness Is A Great Offence.

Oh! The Joy Of Young Ideas Painted On The Mind, In The Warm Glowing Colors Fancy Spreads On Objects Not Yet Known, When All Is New, And All Is Lovely.

Going To The Opera, Like Getting Drunk, Is A Sin That Carries Its Own Punishment With It.

No Adulation; 'tis The Death Of Virtue; Who Flatters, Is Of All Mankind The Lowest Save He Who Courts The Flattery.

The Secret Heart Is Fair Devotion's Temple; There The Saint, Even On That Living Altar, Lights The Flame Of Purest Sacrifice, Which Burns Unseen, Not Unaccepted.