Maxioms by Nicholas Rowe
Guilt is the source of sorrows, the avenging fiend that follows us behind with whips and stings.
Guilt is the source of sorrows, the avenging fiend that follows us behind with whips and stings.
When our old Pleasures die,
Some new One still is nigh;
Oh! fair Variety!
When our old Pleasures die,
Some new One still is nigh;
Oh! fair Variety!
From every blush that kindles in thy cheeks,
Ten thousand little loves and graces spring
To revel read more
From every blush that kindles in thy cheeks,
Ten thousand little loves and graces spring
To revel in the roses.
As if Misfortune made the Throne her Seat,
And none could be unhappy but the Great.
As if Misfortune made the Throne her Seat,
And none could be unhappy but the Great.
Your bounty is beyond my speaking;
But though my mouth be dumb, my heart shall thank you.
Your bounty is beyond my speaking;
But though my mouth be dumb, my heart shall thank you.
