Maxioms by John Greenleaf Whittier
Alas for him who never sees
The stars shine through his cypress-trees
Who, hopeless, lays his dead read more
Alas for him who never sees
The stars shine through his cypress-trees
Who, hopeless, lays his dead away,
Nor looks to see the breaking day
Across the mournful marbles play!
The sun that brief December day
Rose cheerless over hills of gray,
And, darkly circled, gave at read more
The sun that brief December day
Rose cheerless over hills of gray,
And, darkly circled, gave at noon
A sadder light than waning moon.
For of all sad words of tongue or pen, the saddest are these: "It might have been!".
For of all sad words of tongue or pen, the saddest are these: "It might have been!".
Give fools their gold, and knaves their power; Let fortune's bubbles rise and fall; Who sows a field, or trains read more
Give fools their gold, and knaves their power; Let fortune's bubbles rise and fall; Who sows a field, or trains a flower, Or plants a tree, is more than all.
Green calm below, blue quietness above.
Green calm below, blue quietness above.
