Fame Is Nothing But An Empty Name.

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

Constant Attention Wears The Active Mind, Blots Out Our Pow'rs, And Leaves A Blank Behind.

The Best Things Carried To Excess Are Wrong.

Those Who Would Make Us Feel Must Feel Themselves.

A Servile Race Who, In Mere Want Of Fault, All Merit Place; Who Blind Obedience Pay To Ancient Schools, Bigots To Greece, And Slaves To Musty Rules.