Maxioms by Thomas Moore
One sole desire, one passion now remains
To keep life's fever still within his veins,
Vengeance! dire read more
One sole desire, one passion now remains
To keep life's fever still within his veins,
Vengeance! dire vengeance on the wretch who cast
O'er him and all he lov'd that ruinous blast.
Every season hath its pleasure;
Spring may boast her flowery prime,
Yet the vineyard's ruby treasuries
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Every season hath its pleasure;
Spring may boast her flowery prime,
Yet the vineyard's ruby treasuries
Brighten Autumn's sob'rer time.
Like a young eagle, who has lent his plume
To fledge the shaft by which he meets his doom,
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Like a young eagle, who has lent his plume
To fledge the shaft by which he meets his doom,
See their own feathers pluck'd, to wing the dart,
Which rank corruption destines for their heart!
Like the stain'd web that whitens in the sun,
Grow pure by being purely shone upon.
Like the stain'd web that whitens in the sun,
Grow pure by being purely shone upon.
Though an angel should write, still 'tis devils must print.
Though an angel should write, still 'tis devils must print.
