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earlhly spell, and restore us to our senses ; for surely reason will evtr
come to our help, when not forcibly thrust out, and teach us to look
upon worldly concerns in their true colours, and revolve, as did tlis
Poet, that
This vast and solid earth, that blazing sun,
Those skies through which he rolls, must all have end,
What then is man ? the smallest part of nothing !
Day buries day, month month, and year the year ;
Our life is but a chain of many deaths ;
Life is il:e desert, life the solitude.
Death joins us to the great majority ;
'Tis to be borne to Plates and to Ca2sars —
*Tis pleasure, 'tis ambition then to die.
FINIS.

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