Look Homeward, Angel, Now, And Melt With

The Winds With Wonder Whist, Smoothly The Waters Kisst.

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.

It Was That Fatal And Perfidious Bark, Built In Th' Eclipse, And Rigg'd With Curses Dark.

Good, The More Communicated, More Abundant Grows.

God Is Thy Law, Thou Mine: To Know No More Is Woman's Happiest Knowledge And Her Praise. With Thee Conversing I Forget All Time.