Maxioms by Thomas Gray
The boast of heraldry, the pomp of power,
And all that beauty, all that wealth e'er gave,
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The boast of heraldry, the pomp of power,
And all that beauty, all that wealth e'er gave,
Await alike th' inevitable hour,
The paths of glory lead but to the grave.
Fair laughs the morn, and soft the zephyr blows,
While proudly rising o'er the azure realm
In read more
Fair laughs the morn, and soft the zephyr blows,
While proudly rising o'er the azure realm
In gallant trim the gilded vessel goes,
Youth on the prow, and Pleasure at the helm.
Nor cast one longing, ling'ring look behind.
Nor cast one longing, ling'ring look behind.
To each his suff'rings; all are men,
Condemn'd alike to groan;
The tender for another's pain,
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To each his suff'rings; all are men,
Condemn'd alike to groan;
The tender for another's pain,
Th' unfeeling for his own.
Yet ah! why should they know their fate,
Since sorrow never comes too late,
And happiness too swiftly flies?
Thought would destroy their paradise.
Far from the madding crowd's ignoble strife.
Far from the madding crowd's ignoble strife.