'Tis thus that men to heaven aspire: Go on and raise your glories higher. - John Conington

There are few writers whose text is in so satisfactory a state as Virgil's.

Then take, good sir, your pleasure while you may;
With life so short 'twere wrong to lose a day.

Here sees he the illustrious dead
Who fighting for their country bled;
Priests who while earthly life remained
Preserved that life unsoiled, unstained;
Blest bards, transparent souls and clear,
Whose song was worthy Phoebus' ear;
Inventors who by arts refined
The common lot of human kind,
With all who grateful memory won
By services to others done:
A goodly brotherhood, bedight
With coronals of virgin white.