The Sound Must Seem An Echo To

Music Resembles Poetry, In Each Are Nameless Graces Which No Methods Teach, And Which A Master Hand Alone Can Reach.

I Was Not Born For Courts And Great Affairs, But I Pay My Debts, Believe And Say My Prayers.

To Teach Vain Wits That Science Little Known, T' Admire Superior Sense, And Doubt Their Own!

Nature And Nature's Laws Lay Hid In The Night. God Said, Let Newton Be! And All Was Light!

Of Manners Gentle, Of Affections Mild; In Wit A Man; Simplicity, A Child.