Let Grace And Goodness Be

Revenge, Revenge, Timotheus Cries, See The Furies Arise!

While I Am Compassed Round With Mirth, My Soul Lies Hid In Shades Of Grief, Whence, Like The Bird Of Night, With Half-shut Eyes, She Peeps, And Sickens At The Sight Of Day.

Fortune, That With Malicious Joydoes Man Her Slave Oppress,proud Of Her Office To Destroy,is Seldom Pleasd To Bless.

When Misfortune Is Asleep, Let No One Wake Her.

The Fool Of Nature Stood With Stupid Eyes And Gaping Mouth, That Testified Surprise.