On You, My Lord, With Anxious Fear

I Shall Endeavor To Enliven Morality With Wit, And To Temper Wit With Morality.

Better To Die Ten Thousand Deaths, Than Wound My Honour.

In England We See People Lulled Sleep With Solid And Elaborate Discourses Of Piety, Who Would Be Warmed And Transported Out Of Themselves By The Bellowings And Distortions Of Enthusiasm.

On You, My Lord, With Anxious Fear I Wait, And From Your Judgment Must Expect My Fate.

Music, The Greatest Good That Mortals Know And All Of Heaven We Have Hear Below.