Maxioms by James Beattie
Let those deplore their doom,
Whose hope still grovels in this dark sojourn:
But lofty souls, who read more
Let those deplore their doom,
Whose hope still grovels in this dark sojourn:
But lofty souls, who look beyond the tomb,
Can smile at Fate, and wonder how they mourn.
On the cold cheek of Death smiles and roses are blending,
And beauty immortal awakes from the tomb.
On the cold cheek of Death smiles and roses are blending,
And beauty immortal awakes from the tomb.
And, lo! in the dark east, expanded high,
The rainbow brightens to the setting Sun.
And, lo! in the dark east, expanded high,
The rainbow brightens to the setting Sun.
Or merry swains, who quaff the nut-brown ale,
And sing enamour'd of the nut-brown maid.
Or merry swains, who quaff the nut-brown ale,
And sing enamour'd of the nut-brown maid.
