From Restless Thoughts, That, Like A Deadly

Good, The More Communicated, More Abundant Grows.

He Left It In Thy Power, Ordaind Thy Will By Nature Free, Not Over-rul'd By Fate Inextricable, Or Strict Necessity.

Death Is The Golden Key That Opens The Palace Of Eternity.

In Discourse More Sweet; For Eloquence The Soul, Song Charms The Sense. Others Apart Sat On A Hill Retir'd, In Thoughts More Elevate, And Reason'd High Of Providence, Foreknowledge, Will, And Fate, Fix'd Fate, Free-will, Foreknowledge Absolute; And Found No End, In Wand'ring Mazes Lost.

Just Are The Ways Of God, And Justifiable To Men; Unless There Be Who Think Not God At All.