Maxioms by James Thomson (1)
Linnets . . . sit
On the dead tree, a dull despondent flock.
Linnets . . . sit
On the dead tree, a dull despondent flock.
He ceased; but still their trembling ears retained
The deep vibrations of his witching song.
He ceased; but still their trembling ears retained
The deep vibrations of his witching song.
So stands the statue that enchants the world,
So bending tries to veil the matchless boast,
The read more
So stands the statue that enchants the world,
So bending tries to veil the matchless boast,
The mingled beauties of exulting Greece.
Distrust any enterprise that requires new clothes.
Distrust any enterprise that requires new clothes.
At the throng'd levee bends the venal tribe:
With fair but faithless smiles each varnish'd o'er,
Each read more
At the throng'd levee bends the venal tribe:
With fair but faithless smiles each varnish'd o'er,
Each smooth as those that mutually deceive,
And for their falsehood each despising each.
