Maxioms by John Gay
A woman scorn'd is pitiless as fate,
For then the dread of shame adds stings to hate.
A woman scorn'd is pitiless as fate,
For then the dread of shame adds stings to hate.
Variety's the source of joy below,
From whence still fresh-revolving pleasures flow,
In books and love the read more
Variety's the source of joy below,
From whence still fresh-revolving pleasures flow,
In books and love the mind one end pursues,
And only change the expiring flames renews.
Thus shadow owes its birth to light.
Thus shadow owes its birth to light.
With thee conversing I forget the way.
With thee conversing I forget the way.
