Tis Use Alone That Sanctifies

A Field Of Glory Is A Field For All.

Happy The Man Whose Wish And Care A Few Paternal Acres Bound, Content To Breathe His Native Air In His Own Ground.

Old Politicians Chew On Wisdom Past, And Totter On In Business To The Last.

Heaven Breathes Thro' Ev'ry Member Of The Whole One Common Blessing, As One Common Soul.

Our Proper Bliss Depends On What We Blame.