To See The Law By Christ Fulfilled,

Solitude, Seeming A Sanctuary, Proves A Grave; A Sepulchre In Which The Living Lie, Where All Good Qualities Grow Sick And Die

There Is In Souls A Sympathy With Sounds: And As The Mind Is Pitch'd The Ear Is Pleased With Melting Airs, Or Martial, Brisk Or Grave; Some Chord In Unison With What We Hear Is Touch'd Within Us, And The Heart Replies.

Some To The Fascination Of A Name, Surrender Judgment Hoodwinked.

O, Popular Applause! What Heart Of Man Is Proof Against Thy Sweet, Seducing Charms?

Religion Does Not Censure Or Exclude Unnumbered Pleasures, Harmlessly Pursued.