Maxioms by William Ernest Henley
What is the voice of strange command
Calling you still, as friend calls friend,
With love that read more
What is the voice of strange command
Calling you still, as friend calls friend,
With love that cannot brook delay,
To rise and follow the ways that wend
Over the hills and far away.
The nightingale has a lyre of gold,
The lark's is a clarion call,
And the blackbird plays read more
The nightingale has a lyre of gold,
The lark's is a clarion call,
And the blackbird plays but a boxwood flute,
But I love him best of all.
For his song is all the joy of life,
And we in the mad spring weather,
We two have listened till he sang
Our hearts and lips together.
Failing yet gracious,
Slow pacing, soon homing,
A patriarch that strolls
Through the tents read more
Failing yet gracious,
Slow pacing, soon homing,
A patriarch that strolls
Through the tents of his children,
The sun as he journeys
His round on the lower
Ascents of the blue,
Washes the roofs
And the hillsides with clarity.
Men may scoff, and men may pray,
But they pay
Every pleasure with a pain.
Men may scoff, and men may pray,
But they pay
Every pleasure with a pain.
Here is the ghost
Of a summer that lived for us,
Here is a promise
read more
Here is the ghost
Of a summer that lived for us,
Here is a promise
Of summer to be.
