Maxioms by Oliver Goldsmith
Amid thy desert-walks the lapwing flies,
And tires their echoes with unvaried cries.
Amid thy desert-walks the lapwing flies,
And tires their echoes with unvaried cries.
Hoards after hoards his rising raptures fill;
Yet still he sighs, for hoards are wanting still.
Hoards after hoards his rising raptures fill;
Yet still he sighs, for hoards are wanting still.
Leans for all pleasure on another's breast.
Leans for all pleasure on another's breast.
E'en his failings leaned to virtue's side.
E'en his failings leaned to virtue's side.
Remembrance wakes with all her busy train,
Swells at my breast, and turns the past to pain.
Remembrance wakes with all her busy train,
Swells at my breast, and turns the past to pain.
