Maxioms by Robert Blair
Our time is fixed, and all our days are number'd;
How long, how short, we know not:--this we know,
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Our time is fixed, and all our days are number'd;
How long, how short, we know not:--this we know,
Duty requires we calmly wait the summons,
Nor dare to stir till Heaven shall give permission.
But if there be an hereafter,
And that there is, conscience, uninfluenc'd
And suffer'd to speak out, read more
But if there be an hereafter,
And that there is, conscience, uninfluenc'd
And suffer'd to speak out, tells every man,
Then must it be an awful thing to die;
More horrid yet to die by one's own hand.
Smiled like yon knot of cowslips on a cliff.
Smiled like yon knot of cowslips on a cliff.
When it draws near to witching time of night.
When it draws near to witching time of night.
Ye undertakers, tell us,
'Midst all the gorgeous figures you exhibit,
Why is the principal conceal'd, for read more
Ye undertakers, tell us,
'Midst all the gorgeous figures you exhibit,
Why is the principal conceal'd, for which
You make this mighty stir?