Look Homeward, Angel, Now, And Melt With

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.

I Was All Ear, And Took In Strains That Might Create A Soul Under The Ribs Of Death.

And Join With Thee Calm Peace And Quiet, Spare Fast, That Oft With Gods Doth Diet.

And What Is Faith, Love, Virtue Unassayed Alone, Without Exterior Help Sustained?

The Teachers Of Our Law, And To Propose What Might Improve My Knowledge Or Their Own.