In discourse more sweet; For eloquence the soul, song charms the sense. Others apart sat on a hill retir'd, In thoughts more elevate, and reason'd high Of providence, foreknowledge, will, and fate, Fix'd fate, free-will, foreknowledge absolute; And found no end, in wand'ring mazes lost.

Back to thy punishment, False fugitive, and to thy speed add wings.

Th'invention all admir'd, and each, how he to be th'inventor miss'd; so easy it seem'd once found, which yet unfound most would have thought impossible.

Gratitude bestows reverence, allowing us to encounter everyday epiphanies, those transcendent moments of awe that change forever how we experience life and the world.

Here the great art lies, to discern in what the law is to be to restraint and punishment, and in what things persuasion only is to work.

Thou art my father, thou my author, thou my being gav'st me; whom should I obey but thee, whom follow?

Hung over her enamour'd, and beheld Beauty, which, whether waking or asleep, Shot forth peculiar graces.