Thus I Set My Printless Feet O'er

There Are No Songs Comparable To The Songs Of Zion, No Orations Equal To Those Of The Prophets, And No Politics Like Those Which The Scriptures Teach.

Who Can Enjoy Alone? Or All Enjoying What Contentment Find?

O Welcome Pure-eyed Faith, White Handed Hope, Thou Hovering Angel Girt With Golden Wings.

Ah, Why Should All Mankind For One Man's Fault, Be Condemned, If Guiltless?

A Shout That Tore Hell's Concave, And Beyond / Frightened The Reign Of Chaos And Old Night.