my Mamma, who loves to make
Reflections for her Childrens sake;
You see how mortal Friendship ends —
My Child, secure celestial Friends:
Make Heav'n your chief, your early Care;
You'll meet no Disappointment there.
Build not on Length of Days, my Son;
Life's longest Race is quickly run.
Lay hold on ev'ry coming Hour;
Do all the Good that's in your Pow'r:
This will the sinking Heart sustain,
When Cordials are dispens'd in vain;
Asswage the racking Pains, that seize
On Limbs devoted to Disease;
The Place of fleeting Friends supply;
Pour balmy Slumbers on thine Eye;
Shield thee from Terrors of the Night,
And wing thy Pray'rs to Realms of Light;
Thy ev'ry painful Care dismiss,
And crown thee with eternal Bliss.