The Volume Of Nature Is The Book

Thou Source Of All My Bliss And All My Woe, That Found'st Me Poor At First, And Keep'st Me So.

One Man Is Born With A Silver Spoon In His Mouth, And The Other With A Wooden Ladle.

Teach Erring Man To Spurn The Rage Of Gain.

Trade's Proud Empire Hastes To Swift Decay.

Measures, Not Men, Have Always Been My Mark.