O Polly, You Might Have Toyed And

Breathe Soft, Ye Winds! Ye Waves, In Silence Sleep!

In Beauty Faults Conspicuous Grow; The Smallest Speck Is Seen On Snow.

The Luxury Of Doing Good Surpasses Every Other Personal Enjoyment.

Music Might Tame And Civilize Wild Beasts, But 'tis Evident It Never Yet Could Tame And Civilize Musicians.

Woman's Mind Oft' Shifts Her Passions, Like Th'inconstant Wind; Sudden She Rages, Like The Troubled Main, Now Sinks The Storm, And All Is Calm Again.