Maxioms by Alexander Pope
Pleas'd to the last he crops the flowery food,
And licks the hand just rais'd to shed his blood.
Pleas'd to the last he crops the flowery food,
And licks the hand just rais'd to shed his blood.
Of fight or fly,
This choice is left ye, to resist or die.
Of fight or fly,
This choice is left ye, to resist or die.
No silver saints, by dying misers giv'n,
Here brib'd the rage of ill-requited heav'n;
But such plain read more
No silver saints, by dying misers giv'n,
Here brib'd the rage of ill-requited heav'n;
But such plain roofs as Piety could raise,
And only vocal with the Maker's praise.
But see, Orion sheds unwholesome dews;
Arise, the pines a noxious shade diffuse;
Sharp Boreas blows, and read more
But see, Orion sheds unwholesome dews;
Arise, the pines a noxious shade diffuse;
Sharp Boreas blows, and nature feels decay,
Time conquers all, and we must time obey.
