Maxioms by Bret Harte (francis Bret Harte)
The delicate thought, that cannot find expression,
For ruder speech too fair,
That, like thy petals, trembles read more
The delicate thought, that cannot find expression,
For ruder speech too fair,
That, like thy petals, trembles in possession,
And scatters on the air.
With the smile that was childlike and bland.
With the smile that was childlike and bland.
Morgan!--She ain't nothing else, and I've got the papers to prove
it.
Sired by Chippewa Chief, and twelve read more
Morgan!--She ain't nothing else, and I've got the papers to prove
it.
Sired by Chippewa Chief, and twelve hundred dollars won't buy
her.
Briggs of Turlumme owned her. Did you know Briggs of Turlumme?--
Busted hisself in White Pine and blew out his brains down in
Frisco?
Which I wish to remark--
And my language is plain,--
That for ways that are dark
read more
Which I wish to remark--
And my language is plain,--
That for ways that are dark
And for tricks that are vain,
The heathen Chinee is peculiar.
Never a tears bedims the eye
That time and patience will not dry.
Never a tears bedims the eye
That time and patience will not dry.
