The Siren Waits Thee, Singing Song For

Merit Has Rarely Risen Of Itself, But A Pebble Or A Twig Is Often Quite Sufficient For It To Spring From To The Highest Ascent. There Is Usually Some Baseness Before There Is Any Elevation.

Music Is God's Gift To Man, The Only Art Of Heaven Given To Earth, The Only Art Of Earth We Take To Heaven.

Those Who Speak Against The Great Do Not Usually Speak From Morality, But From Envy.

Falsehood Is For A Season.

There Is A Gravity Which Is Not Austere Nor Captious, Which Belongs Not To Melancholy Nor Dwells In Contraction Of Heart: But Arises From Tenderness And Hangs Upon Reflection.