Sickness Is A Sort Of

Know Then This Truth, Enough For Man To Know Virtue Alone Is Happiness Below.

Oh, Sons Of Earth! Attempt Ye Still To Rise. By Mountains Pil'd On Mountains To The Skies? Heav'n Still With Laughter The Vain Toil Surveys, And Buries Madmen In The Heaps They Raise.

As Some To Church Repair, Not For The Doctrine, But The Music There.

For He Lives Twice Who Can At Once Employ, The Present Well, And E'en The Past Enjoy.

Ah! What Avails It Me The Flocks To Keep, Who Lost My Heart While I Preserv'd My Sheep.