Vital spark of heav'nly flame Quit, oh quit, this mortal frame Trembling, hoping, ling'ring, flying, Oh the pain, the bliss of dying.
Vital spark of heav'nly flame Quit, oh quit, this mortal frame Trembling, hoping, ling'ring, flying, Oh the pain, the bliss of dying.
Man never thinks himself happy, but when he enjoys those things which others want or desire.
Ye gods annihilate but space and time. And make two lovers happy.
Not to admire, is all the art I know To make men happy, and to keep them so.
What future bliss, he gives not thee to know,
But gives that hope to be thy blessing now.
But let a lord once own the happy lines, How the wit brightens how the style refines.
Happy the man, whose wish and care
A few paternal acres bound,
Content to breathe his native air,
In his own ground.
The learned is happy, nature to explore; The fool is happy, that he knows no more.
How happy is the blameless vestal's lot!
If the great end be human happiness,
Then Nature deviates; and can man do less?
Each beast, each insect, happy in its own:
Is Heav'n unkind to man, and man alone?
False happiness is like false money it passes for a time as well as the true, and serves some ordinary occasions but when it is brought to the touch, we find the lightness and alloy, and feel the loss.
© 2020 Inspirational Stories
© 2020 Inspirational Stories