Maxioms by James Russell Lowell
Our seasons have no fixed returns,
Without our will they come and go;
At noon our sudden read more
Our seasons have no fixed returns,
Without our will they come and go;
At noon our sudden summer burns,
Ere sunset all is snow.
Violet! sweet violet!
Thine eyes are full of tears;
Are they wet
Even yet
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Violet! sweet violet!
Thine eyes are full of tears;
Are they wet
Even yet
With the thought of other years?
It is good
To lengthen to the last a sunny mood.
It is good
To lengthen to the last a sunny mood.
The shadow of a mighty name.
The shadow of a mighty name.
But civlyzation doos git forrid
Sometimes upon a powder-cart.
But civlyzation doos git forrid
Sometimes upon a powder-cart.
