English poem
A SONG. (Love, thou art best of Human Joys)
by Anonymous
Love, thou art best of Human Joys, Our chiefest Happiness below; All other Pleasures are but Toys, Musick without Thee is but Noise, And Beauty but an empty Show.
Heav'n, who knew best what Man wou'd move, And raise his Thoughts above the Brute; Said, Let him Be, and let him Love; That must alone his Soul improve, Howe'er Philosophers dispute.
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