Maxioms by Oliver Goldsmith
And the weak soul, within itself unbless'd,
Leans for all pleasure on another's breast.
And the weak soul, within itself unbless'd,
Leans for all pleasure on another's breast.
They please, are pleas'd, they give to get esteem
Till, seeming blest, they grow to what they seem.
They please, are pleas'd, they give to get esteem
Till, seeming blest, they grow to what they seem.
As a wit, if not first, in the very first line.
As a wit, if not first, in the very first line.
I'll be with you in the squeezing of a lemon.
I'll be with you in the squeezing of a lemon.
Tenderness is a virtue.
Tenderness is a virtue.
