The Childhood Shows The Man, As Morning

Money Brings Honor, Friends, Conquest, And Realms.

Deep Vers'd In Books, And Shallow In Himself.

As In An Organ From One Blast Of Wind To Many A Row Of Pipes The Soundboard Breathes.

Goodness Thinks No Ill Where No Ill Seems.

God Doth Not Need Either Man's Work Or His Own Gifts. Who Best Bear His Mild Yoke, They Serve Him Best. His State Is Kingly: Thousands At His Bidding Speed, And Post O'er Land And Ocean Without Rest; They Also Serve Who Only Stand And Wait.