Placed on this isthmus of a middle state.
He who serves his brother best gets nearer God than all the rest.
Religion blushing, veils her sacred fires, And unawares Morality expires.
Behold the child, by Nature's kindly law pleased with a rattle, tickled with a straw.
Cavil you may, but never criticise.
Beauties in vain their pretty eyes may roll; charms strike the sight, but merit wins the soul.