Maxioms by John Byrom
My hair is grey, but not with years.
My hair is grey, but not with years.
Give me the soft sigh, whilst the soul-telling eye
Is dimm'd for a time with a tear.
Give me the soft sigh, whilst the soul-telling eye
Is dimm'd for a time with a tear.
Some say, compared to Bononcini,
That Mynheer Handel's but a ninny;
Others aver, that he to Handel
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Some say, compared to Bononcini,
That Mynheer Handel's but a ninny;
Others aver, that he to Handel
Is scarcely fit to hold a Candle:
Strange all this difference should be,
'Twixt Tweedle-dum and Tweedle-dee!
A sword laid by,
Which eats into itself, and rusts ingloriously.
A sword laid by,
Which eats into itself, and rusts ingloriously.
