Before Man Made Us Citizens, Great Nature

Large Charity Doth Never Soil, But Only Whitens Soft White Hands.

I Tell Ye Wut, My Judgment Is You're Pooty Sure To Fail, Ez Long 'z The Head Keeps Turnin' Back For Counsel To The The Tail.

They Have Rights Who Dare Maintain Them.

Then To Side With Truth Is Noble When We Share Her Wretched Crust, Ere Her Cause Bring Fame And Profit, And 't Is Prosperous To Be Just; Then It Is The Brave Man Chooses, While The Coward Stands Aside, Doubting In His Abject Spirit, Till His Lord Is Crucified.

A Man Is Old When He Can Pass An Apple Orchard And Not Remember The Stomachache.