Maxioms by Thomas Hood
Gold! gold! gold! gold!
Bright and yellow, hard and cold!
Gold! gold! gold! gold!
Bright and yellow, hard and cold!
What joy have I in June's return?
My feet are parched--my eyeballs burn,
I scent no flowery read more
What joy have I in June's return?
My feet are parched--my eyeballs burn,
I scent no flowery gust;
But faint the flagging zephyr springs,
With dry Macadam on its wings,
And turns me "dust to dust."
How bravely Autumn paints upon the sky
The gorgeous fame of Summer which is fled!
How bravely Autumn paints upon the sky
The gorgeous fame of Summer which is fled!
Gold! Gold! Gold! Bright and yellow, hard and cold.
Gold! Gold! Gold! Bright and yellow, hard and cold.
A hungry stomach rarely despises rough food.
A hungry stomach rarely despises rough food.