Maxioms by Thomas Gray
When your courtyard twists, do not pour the water abroad.
When your courtyard twists, do not pour the water abroad.
Visions of glory, spare my aching sight!
Ye unborn ages, crown not on my soul.
Visions of glory, spare my aching sight!
Ye unborn ages, crown not on my soul.
The boast of heraldry, the pomp of power,
And all that beauty, all that wealth e'er gave,
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The boast of heraldry, the pomp of power,
And all that beauty, all that wealth e'er gave,
Await alike th' inevitable hour,
The paths of glory lead but to the grave.
Loose his beard, and hoary hair
Stream's, like a meteor, to the troubled air.
Loose his beard, and hoary hair
Stream's, like a meteor, to the troubled air.
No farther seek his merits to disclose,
Or draw his frailties from their dread abode
(There they read more
No farther seek his merits to disclose,
Or draw his frailties from their dread abode
(There they alike in trembling hope repose),
The bosom of his Father and his God.
