Maxioms by Oliver Goldsmith
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.
How small of all that human hearts endure,
That part which laws or kings can cause or cure!
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How small of all that human hearts endure,
That part which laws or kings can cause or cure!
Still to ourselves in every place consigned,
Our own felicity we make or find.
With secret course, which no loud storms annoy,
Glides the smooth current of domestic joy.
That dire disease, whose ruthless power
Withers the beauty's transient flower.
That dire disease, whose ruthless power
Withers the beauty's transient flower.
Like the bee, we should make our industry our amusement.
Like the bee, we should make our industry our amusement.
By every remove I only drag a greater length of chain.
By every remove I only drag a greater length of chain.
