Or Bid The Soul Of Orpheus Sing

What Honour That, But Tedious Waste Of Time, To Sit And Hear So Many Hollow Compliments And Lies.

Yet From Those Flames No Light, But Rather Darkness Visible.

Untwisting All The Chains That Tie The Hidden Soul Of Harmony.

Such Sober Certainty Of Waking Bliss.

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.