Music has charms to sooth a savage breast, to soften rocks, or bend a knotted oak.

If there's delight in love, 'Tis when I see that heart, which others bleed for, bleed for me.

Music has charms to sooth a savage breast, to soften rocks, or bend a knotted oak.

Thus in this sad, but oh, too pleasing state! my soul can fix upon nothing but thee; thee it contemplates, admires, adores, nay depends on, trusts on you alone.

Thus grief still treads upon the heels of pleasure; Married in haste, we may repent at leisure.

If happiness in self-content is placed, The wise are wretched, and fools only blessed.

If this be not love, it is madness, and then it is pardonable.