Maxioms by Alexander Pope
See the wild Waste of all-devouring years!
How Rome her own sad Sepulchre appears,
With nodding arches, read more
See the wild Waste of all-devouring years!
How Rome her own sad Sepulchre appears,
With nodding arches, broken temples spread!
The very Tombs now vanish'd like their dead!
Blessed is the man who expects nothing, for he shall never be disappointed was the ninth beatitude.
Blessed is the man who expects nothing, for he shall never be disappointed was the ninth beatitude.
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!
Poets heap virtues, painters gems, at will,
And show their zeal, and hide their want of skill.
Poets heap virtues, painters gems, at will,
And show their zeal, and hide their want of skill.
When rumours increase, and when there is an abundance of noise and clamour, believe the second report.
When rumours increase, and when there is an abundance of noise and clamour, believe the second report.
