Maxioms by Thomas Haynes Bayly
Tell me the tales that to me were so dear,
Long, long ago, long, long ago.
Tell me the tales that to me were so dear,
Long, long ago, long, long ago.
The rose that all are praising
Is not the rose for me.
The rose that all are praising
Is not the rose for me.
Fly away, pretty moth, to the shade
Of the leaf where you slumbered all day;
Be content read more
Fly away, pretty moth, to the shade
Of the leaf where you slumbered all day;
Be content with the moon and the stars, pretty moth,
And make use of your wings while you may.
. . . .
But tho' dreams of delight may have dazzled you quite,
They at last found it dangerous play;
Many things in this world that look bright, pretty moth,
Only dazzle to lead us astray.
Absence makes the heart grow fonder, Isle of Beauty, Fare thee well!
Absence makes the heart grow fonder, Isle of Beauty, Fare thee well!
