Maxioms by Thomas Gray
Poetry is thoughts that breathe, and words that burn.
Poetry is thoughts that breathe, and words that burn.
In climes beyond the solar road.
In climes beyond the solar road.
Where ignorance is bliss,
'Tis folly to be wise.
Where ignorance is bliss,
'Tis folly to be wise.
Oft did the harvest to their sickle yield:
Their furrow oft the stubborn glebe has broke:
How read more
Oft did the harvest to their sickle yield:
Their furrow oft the stubborn glebe has broke:
How jocund did they drive their team a-field!
How bow'd the woods beneath their sturdy stroke!
Far from the madding crowd's ignoble strife.
Far from the madding crowd's ignoble strife.
