Maxioms by John Byrom
With more of thanks and less of thought,
I strive to make my matters meet;
To seek read more
With more of thanks and less of thought,
I strive to make my matters meet;
To seek what ancient sages sought,
Physic and food in sour and sweet,
To take what passes in good part,
And keep the hiccups from the heart.
Ah, happy years, once more who would not be a boy!
Ah, happy years, once more who would not be a boy!
He makes a solitude, and calls it peace.
He makes a solitude, and calls it peace.
I tell the tale as it was told to me.
I tell the tale as it was told to me.
My hair is grey, but not with years.
My hair is grey, but not with years.
