Maxioms by Edward Young
Oh, how portentous is prosperity!
How comet-like, it threatens while it shines.
Oh, how portentous is prosperity!
How comet-like, it threatens while it shines.
The melancholy ghosts of dead renown,
Whispering faint echoes of the world's applause.
The melancholy ghosts of dead renown,
Whispering faint echoes of the world's applause.
All men think all men mortal, but themselves.
All men think all men mortal, but themselves.
