There Is Nothing Touches Our

The Dawn Is Overcast, The Morning Lowers, And Heavily In Clouds Brings On The Day, The Great, The Important Day, Big With The Fate Of Cato And Of Rome.

Music, The Greatest Good That Mortals Know, And All Of Heaven We Have Below. Music Can Noble Hints Impart, Engender Fury, Kindle Love; 40 With Unsuspected Eloquence Can Move, And Manage All The Man With Secret Art. When Orpheus Strikes The Trembling Lyre The Streams Stand Still, The Stones Admire; The Listening Savages Advance, The World And Lamb Around Him Trip The Bears In Aukward Measures Leap, And Tigers Mingle In The Dance The Moving Woods Attended As He Played And Rhodope Was Left Without A Shade.

A Good Disposition Is More Valuable Than Gold, For The Latter Is The Gift Of Fortune, But The Former Is The Dower Of Nature.

I Have Often Thought If The Minds Of Men Were Laid Open, We Should See But Little Difference Between That Of The Wise Man And That Of The Fool. There Are Infinite Reveries, Numberless Extravagances, And A Perpetual Train Of Vanities Which Pass Through Both. The Great Difference Is, That The First Knows How To Pick And Cull His Thoughts For Conversation, By Suppressing Some, And Communicating Others; Whereas The Other Lets Them All Indifferently Fly Out In Words.

Two Persons Who Have Chosen Each Other Out Of All The Species With A Design To Be Each Other's Mutual Comfort And Entertainment Have, In That Action, Bound Themselves To Be Good-humored, Affable, Discreet, Forgiving, Patient, And Joyful, With Respect To Each Other's Frailties And Perfections, To The End Of Their Lives.