Maxioms by Aaron Hill
The man who pauses on the paths of treason,
Halts on a quicksand, the first step engulfs him.
The man who pauses on the paths of treason,
Halts on a quicksand, the first step engulfs him.
The doctors gave her over--to an ass.
The doctors gave her over--to an ass.
Tender handed stroke a nettle,
And it stings you for your pains;
Grasp it like a man read more
Tender handed stroke a nettle,
And it stings you for your pains;
Grasp it like a man of mettle,
And it soft as silk remains.
She was one of those who by fortune's boon
Are born, as they say, with a silver spoon
read more
She was one of those who by fortune's boon
Are born, as they say, with a silver spoon
In her mouth, not a wooden ladle.
But, oh! the love that gold must crown!
But, oh! the love that gold must crown!