Maxioms by Thomas Gray
Oft did the harvest to their sickle yield:
Their furrow oft the stubborn glebe has broke:
How read more
Oft did the harvest to their sickle yield:
Their furrow oft the stubborn glebe has broke:
How jocund did they drive their team a-field!
How bow'd the woods beneath their sturdy stroke!
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.
They hear a voice in every wind,
And snatch a fearful joy.
They hear a voice in every wind,
And snatch a fearful joy.
Some heart once pregnant with celestial fire.
Some heart once pregnant with celestial fire.
Not all that tempts your wandering eyes
And heedless hearts is lawful prize,
Not all that glisters read more
Not all that tempts your wandering eyes
And heedless hearts is lawful prize,
Not all that glisters gold.
