Maxioms by Thomas Hood
Spontaneously to God should turn the soul,
Like the magnetic needle to the pole;
But what were read more
Spontaneously to God should turn the soul,
Like the magnetic needle to the pole;
But what were that intrinsic virtue worth,
Suppose some fellow, with more zeal than knowledge,
Fresh from St. Andrew's College,
Should nail the conscious needle to the north?
Alas! the fleeting years, how they roll on!
Alas! the fleeting years, how they roll on!
But who would rush at a benighted man, and give him two black eyes for being blind?.
But who would rush at a benighted man, and give him two black eyes for being blind?.
The moon, the moon, so silver and cold,
Her fickle temper has oft been told,
Now shade--now read more
The moon, the moon, so silver and cold,
Her fickle temper has oft been told,
Now shade--now bright and sunny--
But of all the lunar things that change,
The one that shows most fickle and strange,
And takes the most eccentric range,
Is the moon--so called--of honey!
