Maxioms by Thomas Campbell
The prophet's mantle, ere his flight began,
Dropt on the world--a sacred gift to man.
The prophet's mantle, ere his flight began,
Dropt on the world--a sacred gift to man.
When the stormy winds do blow;
When the battle rages loud and long,
And the stormy winds read more
When the stormy winds do blow;
When the battle rages loud and long,
And the stormy winds do blow.
Oh, leave this barren spot to me!
Spare, woodman, space the beechen tree!
Oh, leave this barren spot to me!
Spare, woodman, space the beechen tree!
What's hallowed ground? Has earth a clod
Its Maker mean'd not should be trod
By man, the read more
What's hallowed ground? Has earth a clod
Its Maker mean'd not should be trod
By man, the image of his God,
Erect and free,
Unscourged by Superstition's rod.
