Music, Music For A While Shall All

Jealousy Is The Jaundice Of The Soul.

Government Itself At Length Must Fall To Nature's State, Where All Have Right To All.

Merit Challenges Envy.

When The Sun Sets, Shadows, That Shew'd At Noon But Small, Appear Most Long And Terrible; So, When We Think Fate Hovers O'er Our Heads, Our Apprehensions Shoot Beyond All Bounds, Owls, Ravens, Crickets Seem The Watch Of Death, Nature's Worst Vermine Scare Her God-like Sons. Ecchoes The Very Leavings Of A Voice, Grow Babling Ghosts, And Call Us To Our Graves: Each Mole-hill Thought Swells To A Huge Olympus, While We Fantastick Dreamers Heave And Puff, And Sweat With An Imagination's Weight.

A Narrow Mind Begets Obstinacy; We Do Not Easily Believe What We Cannot See.