Maxioms by Bishop Reginald Heber
Death rides on every passing breeze,
He lurks in every flower.
Death rides on every passing breeze,
He lurks in every flower.
We have forty million reasons for failure, but not a single
excuse.
We have forty million reasons for failure, but not a single
excuse.
When Spring unlocks the flowers to paint the laughing soil.
When Spring unlocks the flowers to paint the laughing soil.
No hammers fell, no ponderous axes rung,
Like some tall palm the mystic fabric sprung.
Majestic silence.
No hammers fell, no ponderous axes rung,
Like some tall palm the mystic fabric sprung.
Majestic silence.
What though the spicy breezes
Blow soft o'er Ceylon's isle;
Though every prospect pleases,
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What though the spicy breezes
Blow soft o'er Ceylon's isle;
Though every prospect pleases,
And only man is vile;
In vain with lavish kindness
The gifts of God are strown;
The heathen in his blindness
Bows down to wood and stone.
