Maxioms by Thomas Haynes Bayly
There is a method in man's wickedness:
It grows up by degrees.
There is a method in man's wickedness:
It grows up by degrees.
Friends depart, and memory takes them
To her caverns, pure and deep.
Friends depart, and memory takes them
To her caverns, pure and deep.
Why don't the men propose, mamma?
Why don't the men propose?
Why don't the men propose, mamma?
Why don't the men propose?
My fond affection thou hast seen,
Then judge of my regret
To think more happy thou hadst read more
My fond affection thou hast seen,
Then judge of my regret
To think more happy thou hadst been
If we had never met!
And has that thought been shared by thee?
Ah, no! that smiling cheek
Proves more unchanging love for me
Than labor'd words could speak.
The rose that all are praising
Is not the rose for me.
The rose that all are praising
Is not the rose for me.
