Maxioms by Robert Pollok
Friend, for your epitaph I'm grieved,
Where still so much is said;
One half will never be read more
Friend, for your epitaph I'm grieved,
Where still so much is said;
One half will never be believed,
The other never read.
Pleased with a rattle, tickled with a straw.
Pleased with a rattle, tickled with a straw.
A fly, a grape-stone, or a hair can kill.
A fly, a grape-stone, or a hair can kill.
Just as the twig is bent the tree's inclined.
Just as the twig is bent the tree's inclined.
What mighty contests rise from trivial things.
What mighty contests rise from trivial things.
