In Every Work Regard The

A Little Learning Is A Dangerous Thing; Drink Deep, Or Taste Not The Pierian Spring.

A Family Is But Too Often A Commonwealth Of Malignants.

Teach Me To Feel Another's Woe, To Hide The Fault I See, That Mercy I To Others Show, That Mercy Show To Me.

Behold The Child, By Nature's Kindly Law, Pleased With A Rattle, Tickled With A Straw; Some Livelier Plaything Gives His Youth Delight, A Little Louder, But As Empty Quite; Scarfs, Garters, Gold, Amuse His Riper Stage, And Beads And Prayer-books Are The Toys Of Age. Pleased With This Bauble Still, As That Before, Till Tired He Sleeps, And Life's Poor Play Is O'er.

You Purchase Pain With All That Joy Can Give And Die Of Nothing But A Rage To Live.