Maxioms by William Cowper
Spring hangs her infant blossoms on the trees,
Rock'd in the cradle of the western breeze.
Spring hangs her infant blossoms on the trees,
Rock'd in the cradle of the western breeze.
No, Freedom has a thousand charms to show
That slaves, howe'er contented, never know.
No, Freedom has a thousand charms to show
That slaves, howe'er contented, never know.
Not a flower
But shows some touch, in freckle, streak or stain,
Of his unrivall'd pencil.
Not a flower
But shows some touch, in freckle, streak or stain,
Of his unrivall'd pencil.
Variety's the very spice of life,
That gives it all its flavour.
Variety's the very spice of life,
That gives it all its flavour.
Though peace be made, yet it's interest that keep peace.
Though peace be made, yet it's interest that keep peace.
