Maxioms by Alexander Pope
Warms in the sun, refreshes in the breeze,
Glows in the stars, and blossoms in the trees.
Warms in the sun, refreshes in the breeze,
Glows in the stars, and blossoms in the trees.
Our proper bliss depends on what we blame.
Our proper bliss depends on what we blame.
Our rural ancestors with little blest,
Patient of labour when the end was rest,
Indulg'd the day read more
Our rural ancestors with little blest,
Patient of labour when the end was rest,
Indulg'd the day that hous'd their annual grain,
With feasts, and off'rings, and a thankful strain.
Wit is the lowest form of humor.
Wit is the lowest form of humor.
Ask you what provocation I have had?
The strong antipathy of good to bad.
Ask you what provocation I have had?
The strong antipathy of good to bad.
