Maxioms by Philip James Bailey
Leave the poor
Some time for self-improvement. Let them not
Be forced to grind the bones out read more
Leave the poor
Some time for self-improvement. Let them not
Be forced to grind the bones out of their arms
For bread, but have some space to think and feel
Like moral and immortal creatures.
See the gold sunshine patching,
And streaming and streaking across
The gray-green oaks; and catching,
read more
See the gold sunshine patching,
And streaming and streaking across
The gray-green oaks; and catching,
By its soft brown beard, the moss.
Love spends his all, and still hath store.
Love spends his all, and still hath store.
The death-change comes.
Death is another life. We bow our heads
At going out, we think, and read more
The death-change comes.
Death is another life. We bow our heads
At going out, we think, and enter straight
Another golden chamber of the king's
Larger than this we leave, and lovelier.
And then in shadowy glimpses, disconnect,
The story, flower-like, closes thus its leaves.
The will of God is all in all. He makes,
Destroys, remakes, for His own pleasure, all.
Who never doubted, never half believed. Where doubt is, there truth is -- it is her shadow.
Who never doubted, never half believed. Where doubt is, there truth is -- it is her shadow.
