Maxioms by Thomas Moore
Though an angel should write, still 'tis devils must print.
Though an angel should write, still 'tis devils must print.
And soon, too soon, we part with pain,
To sail o'er silent seas again.
And soon, too soon, we part with pain,
To sail o'er silent seas again.
Those evening bells! those evening bells!
How many a tale their music tells!
Those evening bells! those evening bells!
How many a tale their music tells!
But the trail of the serpent is over them all.
But the trail of the serpent is over them all.
Good-bye--my paper's out so nearly,
I've only room for, Yours sincerely.
Good-bye--my paper's out so nearly,
I've only room for, Yours sincerely.
