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Confusion's cure lives not
In these confusions.
Confusion's cure lives not
In these confusions.
It is but the weak and little mind that rejoices in revenge.
It is but the weak and little mind that rejoices in revenge.
To his tuned spirit the wild heather-bells
Ring Sabbath knells;
The sod's a cushion for his pious read more
To his tuned spirit the wild heather-bells
Ring Sabbath knells;
The sod's a cushion for his pious want,
And, consecrated by the heaven within it,
The sky-blue pool a font.
A man too busy to take care of his health is like a mechanic too
bus to take care read more
A man too busy to take care of his health is like a mechanic too
bus to take care of his tools.
The rills of pleasure never run sincere,
(Earth has no unpolluted spring)
From the cursed soil some read more
The rills of pleasure never run sincere,
(Earth has no unpolluted spring)
From the cursed soil some dang'rous taint they bear;
So roses grow on thorns, and honey wears a sting.
There is more of bitterness than good nature in him.
There is more of bitterness than good nature in him.
'Tis neither here nor there.
'Tis neither here nor there.
An ill wound is cured, not an ill name.
An ill wound is cured, not an ill name.
