Maxioms by Thomas Gray
To warm their little loves the birds complain.
To warm their little loves the birds complain.
Chill penury repress'd their noble rage,
And froze the genial current of the soul.
Chill penury repress'd their noble rage,
And froze the genial current of the soul.
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.
And read their history in a nation's eyes.
And read their history in a nation's eyes.
When iron scourge, and tort'ring hour
The bad affright, afflict the best.
When iron scourge, and tort'ring hour
The bad affright, afflict the best.
