Maxioms by William Cowper
How shall I speak thee, or thy power address
Thou God of our idolatry, the Press.
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How shall I speak thee, or thy power address
Thou God of our idolatry, the Press.
. . . .
Like Eden's dead probationary tree,
Knowledge of good and evil is from thee.
Did Charity prevail, the press would prove
A vehicle of virtue, truth, and love.
Did Charity prevail, the press would prove
A vehicle of virtue, truth, and love.
As creeping ivy clings to wood or stone,
And hides the ruin that it feeds upon.
As creeping ivy clings to wood or stone,
And hides the ruin that it feeds upon.
Praise enough
To fill the ambition of a private man,
That Chatham's language was his mother-tongue.
Praise enough
To fill the ambition of a private man,
That Chatham's language was his mother-tongue.
Mercy to him that shows it, is the rule.
Mercy to him that shows it, is the rule.
