He That Runs May Read.

But Truths On Which Depends Our Main Concern, That 'tis Our Shame And Misery Not To Learn, Shine By The Side Of Every Path We Tread With Such A Lustre He That Runs May Read.

The Bud May Have A Bitter Taste, But Sweet Will Be The Flower.

A Noisy Man Is Always In The Right.

How Happy It Is To Believe, With A Steadfast Assurance, That Our Petitions Are Heard Even While We Are Making Them; And How Delightful To Meet With A Proof Of It In The Effectual And Actual Grant Of Them.

The Slaves Of Custom And Established Mode, With Pack-horse Constancy We Keep The Road Crooked Or Straight, Through Quags Or Thorny Dells, True To The Jingling Of Our Leader's Bells.