Maxioms by John Byrom
Fresh feres will dry the bright blue eye
We late saw streaming o'er.
Fresh feres will dry the bright blue eye
We late saw streaming o'er.
But who alas! can love and then be wise?
But who alas! can love and then be wise?
But time strips our illusions of their hue,
And one by one in turn some grand mistake
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But time strips our illusions of their hue,
And one by one in turn some grand mistake
Casts off its bright skin yearly like a snake.
And all may think which way their judgments lead 'em.
And all may think which way their judgments lead 'em.
