Maxioms by Alexander Pope
. . . th' approach of night
The skies yet blushing with departing light,
When falling dews read more
. . . th' approach of night
The skies yet blushing with departing light,
When falling dews with spangles deck'd the glade,
And the low sun had lengthen'd ev'ry shade.
Yet still a sad, good Christian at the heart.
Yet still a sad, good Christian at the heart.
Men would be angels, angels would be gods.
Men would be angels, angels would be gods.
Is not absence death to those who love?
Is not absence death to those who love?
How shall I lose the sin yet keep the sense,
And love th' offender, yet detest the offence?
How shall I lose the sin yet keep the sense,
And love th' offender, yet detest the offence?
