Maxioms by Thomas Gray
Since sorrow never comes too late
And happiness too swiftly flies.
Since sorrow never comes too late
And happiness too swiftly flies.
Alas! regardless of their doom,
The little victims play;
No sense have they of ills to come,
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Alas! regardless of their doom,
The little victims play;
No sense have they of ills to come,
Nor care beyond to-day.
Hard Unkindness' alter'd eye,
That mocks the tear if forced to flow.
Hard Unkindness' alter'd eye,
That mocks the tear if forced to flow.
The tear forgot as soon as shed,
The sunshine of the breast.
The tear forgot as soon as shed,
The sunshine of the breast.
