Joy Rul'd The Day, And Love The

Ill News Is Wing'd With Fate, And Flies Apace.

What Passion Cannot Music Raise And Quell!

And After Hearing What Our Church Can Say, If Still Our Reason Runs Another Way, That Private Reason 'tis More Just To Curb, Than By Disputes The Public Peace Disturb; For Points Obscure Are Of Small Use To Learn, But Common Quiet Is Mankind's Concern.

Whatever Is, Is In Its Causes Just.

When Bounteous Autumn Rears Her Head, He Joys To Pull The Ripened Pear.