Manners are not idle, but the fruit of loyal and of noble mind.
Thoroughly to believe in one's own self, so one's self were thorough, were to do great things.
I the heir of all the ages, in the foremost files of time.
Men, my brothers, men the workers, ever reaping something new.
Fill the cup, and fill the can: Have a rouse before the morn: Every moment dies a man, Every moment one is born.
For this is England's greatest son, He that gain'd a hundred fights, And never lost an English gun.