Maxioms by Alexander Pope
The ruling passion, be it what it will,
The ruling passion conquers reason still.
The ruling passion, be it what it will,
The ruling passion conquers reason still.
Where London's column, pointing at the skies,
Like a tall bully, lifts the head and lies.
Where London's column, pointing at the skies,
Like a tall bully, lifts the head and lies.
Who know but He, whose hand the lightning forms,
Who heaves old ocean, and who wings the storms,
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Who know but He, whose hand the lightning forms,
Who heaves old ocean, and who wings the storms,
Pours fierce ambition in a Caesar's mind.
A little learning is a dangerous thing.
A little learning is a dangerous thing.
To what base ends, and by what abject ways,
Are mortals urg'd through sacred lust of praise!
To what base ends, and by what abject ways,
Are mortals urg'd through sacred lust of praise!
