Such sweet compulsion doth in music lie.
It was the winter wild, While the Heaven-born child, All meanly wrapt in the rude manger lies.
Confidence imparts a wonderful inspiration to the possessor.
For so I created them free and free they must remain.
Truth and understanding are not such wares as to be monopolized and traded in by tickets and statutes and standards. We must not think to make a staple commodity of all the knowledge in the land, to mark and license it like our broadcloth and our woolpacks.
Must I thus leave thee, Paradise?-thus leave Thee, native soil, these happy walks and shades?