So Upright Quakers Please Both Man And

Placed On This Isthmus Of A Middle State.

Ye Flowers That Drop, Forsaken By The Spring, Ye Birds That, Left By Summer, Cease To Sing, Ye Trees That Fade, When Autumn Heats Remove, Say, Is Not Absence Death To Those Who Love?

A Fly, A Grape-stone, Or A Hair Can Kill.

Say First, Of God Above Or Man Below; What Can We Reason But From What We Know.

Avoid Extremes; And Shun The Fault Of Such Who Still Are Pleas'd Too Little Or Too Much.