Maxioms by John Byrom
Christians awake, salute the happy morn
Whereon the Saviour of the world was born.
Christians awake, salute the happy morn
Whereon the Saviour of the world was born.
But sighs subside, and tears (even widows') shrink,
Like Arno in the summer, to a shallow.
But sighs subside, and tears (even widows') shrink,
Like Arno in the summer, to a shallow.
Demons in act, but gods at least in face.
Demons in act, but gods at least in face.
A sword laid by,
Which eats into itself, and rusts ingloriously.
A sword laid by,
Which eats into itself, and rusts ingloriously.
