And Little Eagles Wave Their Wings In

Like Bubbles On The Sea Of Matter Borne, They Rise, They Break, And To That Sea Return.

All Nature Is But Art, Unknown To Thee All Chance, Direction, Which Thou Canst Not See; All Discord, Harmony Not Understood; All Partial Evil, Universal Good.

It Is Observable That The Ladies Frequent Tragedies More Than Comedies; The Reason May Be, That In Tragedy Their Sex Is Deified And Adored, In Comedy Exposed And Ridiculed.

The Man That Loves And Laughs Must Sure Do Well.

First Follow Nature, And Your Judgment Frame By Her Just Standard, Which Is Still The Same: Unerring Nature, Still Divinely Bright, One Clear, Unchanged, And Universal Light, Life, Force, And Beauty Must To All Impart, At Once The Source, And End, And Test Of Art.