Maxioms by James Russell Lowell
Our seasons have no fixed returns,
Without our will they come and go;
At noon our sudden read more
Our seasons have no fixed returns,
Without our will they come and go;
At noon our sudden summer burns,
Ere sunset all is snow.
Virtue treads paths that end not in the grave.
Virtue treads paths that end not in the grave.
Idleness induces caprice.
Idleness induces caprice.
It is good
To lengthen to the last a sunny mood.
It is good
To lengthen to the last a sunny mood.
Listen! O, listen!
Here come the hum the golden bees
Underneath full blossomed trees,
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Listen! O, listen!
Here come the hum the golden bees
Underneath full blossomed trees,
At once with glowing fruit and flowers crowned.
