Maxioms by George Crabbe
Feed the musician, and he's out of tune
Feed the musician, and he's out of tune
His patient soul endures what Heav'n ordains,
But neither feels nor fears ideal pains.
His patient soul endures what Heav'n ordains,
But neither feels nor fears ideal pains.
A sly old fish, too cunning for the hook.
A sly old fish, too cunning for the hook.
Come, now again, thy woes impart,
Tell all thy sorrows, all thy sin;
We cannot heal the read more
Come, now again, thy woes impart,
Tell all thy sorrows, all thy sin;
We cannot heal the throbbing heart
Will we discern the wounds within.
Oh! rather give me commentators plain,
Who with no deep researches vex the brain;
Who from the read more
Oh! rather give me commentators plain,
Who with no deep researches vex the brain;
Who from the dark and doubtful love to run,
And hold their glimmering tapers to the sun.
