That gloomy outside, like a rusty chest, contains the shoring treasure of a soul resolved and brave.

But dying is a pleasure / When living is a pain.

Interest makes all seem reason that leads to it.

What passion cannot music raise and quell!

Revenge, revenge, Timotheus cries, See the Furies arise!

From Harmony, from heav'nly Harmony. This universal Frame began.

Reason saw not, till Faith sprung the Light.