No Tribute Is Laid On

Little Do Such Men Know The Toil, The Pains, The Daily, Nightly Racking Of The Brains, To Range The Thoughts, The Matter To Digest, To Cull Fit Phrases, And Reject The Rest.

This A Sacred Rule We Find Among The Nicest Of Mankind, (which Never Might Exception Brook From Hobbes Even Down To Bolingbroke,) To Doubt Of Facts, However True, Unless They Know The Causes Too.

The More Haste, Ever The Worst Speed.

Wherever Waves Can Roll, And Winds Can Blow.

If Honor Calls, Where'er She Points The Way The Sons Of Honor Follow, And Obey.