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He needs no more knowledge his wisdom will shine,
And he'll pass though each lodge with pass-word and sign.
CHORUS.
In the evening tuned harping
So sweetly did play,
And they sung mutual songs
To close the seventh day.
Come join me in chorus,
That we may go on,
All things is got finished,
Come let us make man.
Virtue only in the Mind.
STRANGER think me not too bold,
Judge with candour of my youth;
Ere this curtain I unfold
Listen to a simple truth.
The heart alone is worth a thought;
Features boast no real worth;
Beauty may be sold or bought;
True merit in the mind has birth.
Yet think not, stranger. I would say,
Mine are features form'd to please;
I haste to chace the thought away,
By simply showing such as these.
FINIS.
