Maxioms by John Gay
No retreat. No retreat. They must conquer or die who've no retreat.
No retreat. No retreat. They must conquer or die who've no retreat.
The careful insect 'midst his works I view,
Now from the flowers exhaust the fragrant dew,
With read more
The careful insect 'midst his works I view,
Now from the flowers exhaust the fragrant dew,
With golden treasures load his little thighs,
And steer his distant journey through the skies.
What happiness the rural maid attends,
In cheerful labour while each day she spends!
She gratefully receives read more
What happiness the rural maid attends,
In cheerful labour while each day she spends!
She gratefully receives what Heav'n has sent,
And, rich in poverty, enjoys content.
What boots it on the lineal tree to trace
Through many a branch the founders of our race.
What boots it on the lineal tree to trace
Through many a branch the founders of our race.
"Is there no hope?" the sick man said,
The silent doctor shook his head,
And took his read more
"Is there no hope?" the sick man said,
The silent doctor shook his head,
And took his leave with signs of sorrow,
Despairing of his fee to-morrow.