Maxioms by William Cowper
We start from the Mother's Arms and we run to the Dustshovel.
We start from the Mother's Arms and we run to the Dustshovel.
Where tempests never beat nor billows roar.
Where tempests never beat nor billows roar.
The path of sorrow, and that path alone,
Leads to the lands where sorrow is unknown.
The path of sorrow, and that path alone,
Leads to the lands where sorrow is unknown.
He stands erect; his slouch becomes a walk;
He steps right onward, martial in his air,
His read more
He stands erect; his slouch becomes a walk;
He steps right onward, martial in his air,
His form and movement.
He who finds thought that lets us penetrate even a little deeper
into the eternal mystery of nature has read more
He who finds thought that lets us penetrate even a little deeper
into the eternal mystery of nature has been granted great grace.
He who, in addition, experiences the recognition, sympathy, and
help of the best minds of his times, had been given almost more
happiness than one man can bear.
