Maxioms by Oliver Goldsmith
And the weak soul, within itself unbless'd,
Leans for all pleasure on another's breast.
And the weak soul, within itself unbless'd,
Leans for all pleasure on another's breast.
His house was known to all the vagrant train,
He chid their wanderings but reliev'd their pain;
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His house was known to all the vagrant train,
He chid their wanderings but reliev'd their pain;
The long remembered beggar was his guest,
Whose beard descending swept his aged breast.
Man wants but little here below Nor wants that little long.
Man wants but little here below Nor wants that little long.
To what happy accident is it that we owe so unexpected a visit?
To what happy accident is it that we owe so unexpected a visit?
Her modest looks the cottage might adorn,
Sweet as the primrose peeps beneath the thorn.
Her modest looks the cottage might adorn,
Sweet as the primrose peeps beneath the thorn.
