Those Marriages Generally Abound Most

The Ways Of Heaven Are Dark And Intricate, Puzzled In Mazes, And Perplex'd With Errors; Our Understanding Traces Them In Vain, Lost And Bewilder'd In The Fruitless Search; Nor Sees With How Much Art The Windings Run, Nor Where The Regular Confusion Ends.

The Consciousness Of Being Loved Softens The Keenest Pang Even At The Moment Of Parting; Yea, Even The Eternal Farewell Is Robbed Of Half Of Its Bitterness When Uttered In Accents That Breathe Love To The Last Sigh.

The Fear Of Death Often Proves Mortal, And Sets People On Methods To Save Their Lives, Which Infallibly Destroy Them.

True Modesty Avoids Everything That Is Criminal; False Modesty Everything That Is Unfashionable.

Music, The Greatest Good That Mortals Know, And All Of Heaven We Have Below. Music Can Noble Hints Impart, Engender Fury, Kindle Love; 40 With Unsuspected Eloquence Can Move, And Manage All The Man With Secret Art. When Orpheus Strikes The Trembling Lyre The Streams Stand Still, The Stones Admire; The Listening Savages Advance, The World And Lamb Around Him Trip The Bears In Aukward Measures Leap, And Tigers Mingle In The Dance The Moving Woods Attended As He Played And Rhodope Was Left Without A Shade.