Maxioms by Thomas Hood
It is not linen you're wearing out,
But human creatures' lives.
It is not linen you're wearing out,
But human creatures' lives.
The Autumn is old;
The sere leaves are flying;
He hath gather'd up gold,
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The Autumn is old;
The sere leaves are flying;
He hath gather'd up gold,
And now he is dying;--
Old age, begin sighing!
A cup concealed in the dress is rarely honestly carried.
A cup concealed in the dress is rarely honestly carried.
The year's in wane;
There is nothing adorning;
The night has no eve,
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The year's in wane;
There is nothing adorning;
The night has no eve,
And the day has no morning;
Cold winter gives warning!
O bed! O bed! delicious bed!
That heaven upon earth to the weary head.
O bed! O bed! delicious bed!
That heaven upon earth to the weary head.
