Tis Not, To Cry God Mercy, Or

Heaven Finds An Ear When Sinners Find A Tongue.

Death's A Fable. Did Not Heaven Inspire Your Equal Elements With Living Fire Blown From The Spring Of Life? Is Not That Breath Immortal? Come; Ye Are As Free From Death As He That Made Ye: Can The Flames Expire Which He Kindled?

God Is Alpha And Omega In The Great World: Endeavor To Make Him So In The Little World; Make Him Thy Evening Epilogue And Thy Morning Prologue; Practice To Make Him Thy Last Thought At Night When Thou Sleepest, And Thy First Thought In The Morning When Thou Awakest; So Shall Thy Fancy Be Sanctified In The Night, And Thy Understanding Rectified In The Day; So Shall Thy Rest Be Peaceful, Thy Labors Prosperous, Thy Life Pious, And Thy Death Glorious.

Alas! Fond Child, How Are Thy Thoughts Beguil'd To Hope For Honey From A Nest Of Wasps? Thou May'st As Well Go Seek For Ease In Hell, Or Sprightly Nectar From The Mouths Of Asps. The World's A Hive, From Whence Thou Canst Derive No Good, But What Thy Soul's Vexation Brings: But Case Thou Meet Some Petty-petty Sweet, Each Drop Is Guarded With A Thousand Stings.

When The Flesh Presents Thee With Delights, Then Present Thyself With Dangers; Where The World Possesses Thee With Vain Hopes, There Possess Thyself With True Fear; When The Devil Brings Thee Oil, Bring Thou Vinegar. The Way To Be Safe Is Never To Be Secure.