Maxioms by John Byrom
Dreading that climax of all earthly ills,
The inflammation of his weekly bills.
Dreading that climax of all earthly ills,
The inflammation of his weekly bills.
I make a declaration every spring,
Of reformation ere the year run out,
But somehow this my read more
I make a declaration every spring,
Of reformation ere the year run out,
But somehow this my vestal vary takes wing.
Christians awake, salute the happy morn
Whereon the Saviour of the world was born.
Christians awake, salute the happy morn
Whereon the Saviour of the world was born.
My hair is grey, but not with years.
My hair is grey, but not with years.
