To have each hand to industry inclined,
Each heart from scripture by Heaven’s mercy taught,
Religion’s ways with pleasantness are fraught;
That holy peace may dwell within each breast,
Their lives be useful, and their deaths be blest.
A Poet’s Aspiration.
When silent in the grave I lie
May some fond hearts remember me;
’Twould be a double death to die
To fall from life and memory!