On life's vast ocean diversely we sail. Reasons the card, but passion the gale.

Music resembles poetry, in each Are nameless graces which no methods teach, And which a master hand alone can reach.

The worst of madmen is a saint run mad.

Lo! The poor Indian, whose untutored mind sees God in clouds, or hears him in the wind.

Astrologers that future fates foreshow.

If I am right, Thy grace impart Still in the right to stay; If I am wrong, O, teach my heart To find that better way!

Health consists with temperance alone.