Maxioms by William Cowper
There is a pleasure in poetic pains,
Which only poets know.
There is a pleasure in poetic pains,
Which only poets know.
Thus happiness depends, as Nature shows,
Less on exterior things than most suppose.
Thus happiness depends, as Nature shows,
Less on exterior things than most suppose.
The priest he merry is, and blithe
Three-quarters of a year,
But oh! it cuts him like read more
The priest he merry is, and blithe
Three-quarters of a year,
But oh! it cuts him like a scythe
When tithing time draws near.
In indolent vacuity of thought.
In indolent vacuity of thought.
Thus neither the praise nor the blame is our own.
Thus neither the praise nor the blame is our own.
