Maxioms by Alexander Pope
Such labour'd nothings, in so strange a style.
Amaze th' learn'd, and make the learned smile.
Such labour'd nothings, in so strange a style.
Amaze th' learn'd, and make the learned smile.
Such as she is, who died to-day,
Such thou alas! mayst be to-morrow.
Such as she is, who died to-day,
Such thou alas! mayst be to-morrow.
There still remains to mortify a wit
The many-headed monster of the pit.
There still remains to mortify a wit
The many-headed monster of the pit.
But honest instinct comes a volunteer; Sure never to o'er-shoot, but just to hit, While still too wide or short read more
But honest instinct comes a volunteer; Sure never to o'er-shoot, but just to hit, While still too wide or short in human wit.
Oh, sons of earth! attempt ye still to rise.
By mountains pil'd on mountains to the skies?
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Oh, sons of earth! attempt ye still to rise.
By mountains pil'd on mountains to the skies?
Heav'n still with laughter the vain toil surveys,
And buries madmen in the heaps they raise.