Maxioms by Robert Pollok
Fair tresses man's imperial race ensnare,
And beauty draws us with a single hair.
Fair tresses man's imperial race ensnare,
And beauty draws us with a single hair.
Or will you think, my friend, your bus'ness done
When, of a hundred thorns, you pull out one.
Or will you think, my friend, your bus'ness done
When, of a hundred thorns, you pull out one.
Mercy stood in the cloud, with eye that wept
Essential love.
Mercy stood in the cloud, with eye that wept
Essential love.
Do good by stealth, and blush to find it fame.
Do good by stealth, and blush to find it fame.
A fellow feeling makes us wondrous kind.
A fellow feeling makes us wondrous kind.
