Joseph Addison

It must be so--Plato, thou reasonest well!--
Else whence this pleasing hope, this fond desire,
This longing read more

It must be so--Plato, thou reasonest well!--
Else whence this pleasing hope, this fond desire,
This longing after immortality?
Or whence this secret dread, and inward horror,
O falling into nought? Why shrinks the soul
Back on herself, and startles at destruction?
'Tis the divinity that stirs within us;
'Tis heaven itself, that points out an hereafter,
And intimates eternity to man.

Sunday clears away the rust of the whole week.

Sunday clears away the rust of the whole week.

A thousand trills and quivering sounds
In airy circles o'er us fly,
Till, wafted by a gentle read more

A thousand trills and quivering sounds
In airy circles o'er us fly,
Till, wafted by a gentle breeze,
They faint and languish by degrees,
And at a distance die.

Justice discards party, friendship, kindred, and is therefore
always represented as blind.

Justice discards party, friendship, kindred, and is therefore
always represented as blind.

I will indulge my sorrows, and give way
To all the pangs and fury of despair.

I will indulge my sorrows, and give way
To all the pangs and fury of despair.