Maxioms by Thomas Gray
The meanest floweret of the vale,
The simplest note that swells the gale,
The common sun, the read more
The meanest floweret of the vale,
The simplest note that swells the gale,
The common sun, the air, the skies,
To him are open paradise.
Nor cast one longing, ling'ring look behind.
Nor cast one longing, ling'ring look behind.
Visions of glory, spare my aching sight!
Ye unborn ages, crown not on my soul.
Visions of glory, spare my aching sight!
Ye unborn ages, crown not on my soul.
And shut the gates of mercy on mankind.
And shut the gates of mercy on mankind.
Scatter plenty o'er a smiling land.
Scatter plenty o'er a smiling land.
