Maxioms by Robert Pollok
A fellow feeling makes us wondrous kind.
A fellow feeling makes us wondrous kind.
But when to mischief mortals bend their will,
How soon they find fit instruments of ill.
But when to mischief mortals bend their will,
How soon they find fit instruments of ill.
Pleased with a rattle, tickled with a straw.
Pleased with a rattle, tickled with a straw.
'Twas slander filled her mouth with lying words;
Slander, the foulest whelp of Sin.
'Twas slander filled her mouth with lying words;
Slander, the foulest whelp of Sin.
He sat among his bags, and, with a look
Which hell might be ashamed of, drove the poor
read more
He sat among his bags, and, with a look
Which hell might be ashamed of, drove the poor
Away unalmed; and midst abundance died--
Sorest of evils!--died of utter want.
