Maxioms by Thomas Campbell
Ye field flowers! the gardens eclipse you 'tis true:
Yet wildings of nature, I dote upon you,
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Ye field flowers! the gardens eclipse you 'tis true:
Yet wildings of nature, I dote upon you,
For ye waft me to summers of old,
When the earth teem'd around me with fairy delight,
And when daisies and buttercups gladden'd my sight,
Like treasures of silver and gold.
'Tis the sunset of life gives me mystical lore,
And coming events cast their shadows before.
'Tis the sunset of life gives me mystical lore,
And coming events cast their shadows before.
And hears thy stormy music in the drum!
And hears thy stormy music in the drum!
Lo! at the couch where infant beauty sleeps;
Her silent watch the mournful mother keeps;
She, while read more
Lo! at the couch where infant beauty sleeps;
Her silent watch the mournful mother keeps;
She, while the lovely babe unconscious lies,
Smiles on her slumbering child with pensive eyes.
