Maxioms by John Byrom
His eyes
Were with his heart. and that was far away.
His eyes
Were with his heart. and that was far away.
And all may think which way their judgments lead 'em.
And all may think which way their judgments lead 'em.
Ah, happy years, once more who would not be a boy!
Ah, happy years, once more who would not be a boy!
Give me the soft sigh, whilst the soul-telling eye
Is dimm'd for a time with a tear.
Give me the soft sigh, whilst the soul-telling eye
Is dimm'd for a time with a tear.
Despair of all recovery spoils longevity,
And makes men's miseries of alarming brevity.
Despair of all recovery spoils longevity,
And makes men's miseries of alarming brevity.
