Maxioms by Robert Pollok
He sat among his bags, and, with a look
Which hell might be ashamed of, drove the poor
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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.
And gentle Dulness ever loves a joke.
And gentle Dulness ever loves a joke.
Fair tresses man's imperial race ensnare,
And beauty draws us with a single hair.
Fair tresses man's imperial race ensnare,
And beauty draws us with a single hair.
