Maxioms by Robert Pollok
Pleased with a rattle, tickled with a straw.
Pleased with a rattle, tickled with a straw.
He sat among his bags, and, with a look
Which hell might be ashamed of, drove the poor
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He sat among his bags, and, with a look
Which hell might be ashamed of, drove the poor
Away unalmed; and midst abundance died--
Sorest of evils!--died of utter want.
Just as the twig is bent the tree's inclined.
Just as the twig is bent the tree's inclined.
Friend, for your epitaph I'm grieved,
Where still so much is said;
One half will never be read more
Friend, for your epitaph I'm grieved,
Where still so much is said;
One half will never be believed,
The other never read.
Far from gay cities and the ways of men.
Far from gay cities and the ways of men.
