Maxioms by James Beattie
Or merry swains, who quaff the nut-brown ale,
And sing enamour'd of the nut-brown maid.
Or merry swains, who quaff the nut-brown ale,
And sing enamour'd of the nut-brown maid.
'Twas thus by the glare of false science betray'd,
That leads to bewilder, and dazzles to blind.
'Twas thus by the glare of false science betray'd,
That leads to bewilder, and dazzles to blind.
Changed to a lapwing by th' avenging god,
He made the barren waste his lone abode,
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Changed to a lapwing by th' avenging god,
He made the barren waste his lone abode,
And oft on soaring pinions hover'd o'er
The lofty palace then his own no more.
From labour health, from health contentment spring;
Contentment opes the source of every joy.
From labour health, from health contentment spring;
Contentment opes the source of every joy.
