Maxioms by William Wordsworth
I heard a Stock-dove sing or say
His homely tale, this very day;
His voice was buried read more
I heard a Stock-dove sing or say
His homely tale, this very day;
His voice was buried among trees,
Yet to be come at by the breeze:
He did not cease; but cooed--and cooed:
And somewhat pensively he wooed:
He sang of love, with quiet blending,
Slow to begin, and never ending;
Of serious faith, and inward glee;
That was the song,--the song for me!
He could afford to suffer
With those whom he saw suffer.
He could afford to suffer
With those whom he saw suffer.
That best portion of a good man's life, His little, nameless, unremembered acts of kindness and of love.
That best portion of a good man's life, His little, nameless, unremembered acts of kindness and of love.
Golf is a day spent in a round of strenuous idleness.
Golf is a day spent in a round of strenuous idleness.
Like--but oh! how different!
Like--but oh! how different!
