Our Reason Is Our Law.

How Oft, In Nations Gone Corrupt, And By Their Own Devices Brought Down To Servitude, That Man Chooses Bondage Before Liberty. Bondage With Ease Before Strenuous Liberty.

Among Unequals What Society Can Sort, What Harmony, Or True Delight?

Deep Vers'd In Books, And Shallow In Himself.

God Doth Not Need Either Man's Work Or His Own Gifts. Who Best Bear His Mild Yoke, They Serve Him Best. His State Is Kingly: Thousands At His Bidding Speed, And Post O'er Land And Ocean Without Rest; They Also Serve Who Only Stand And Wait.

The Love-lorn Nightingale Nightly To Thee Her Sad Song Mourneth Well.