Maxioms by Nicholas Rowe
Guilt is the source of sorrow, 'tis the fiend,Th' avenging fiend, that follows us behindWith whips and stings.
Guilt is the source of sorrow, 'tis the fiend,Th' avenging fiend, that follows us behindWith whips and stings.
Thou hast prevariated with thy friend,
By underhand contrivances undone me:
And while my open nature trusted read more
Thou hast prevariated with thy friend,
By underhand contrivances undone me:
And while my open nature trusted in thee,
Thou hast stept in between me and my hopes,
And ravish'd from me all my soul held dear.
Thou hast betray'd me.
Think not the good,
The gentle deeds of mercy thou hast done,
Shall die forgotten all; the read more
Think not the good,
The gentle deeds of mercy thou hast done,
Shall die forgotten all; the poor, the prisoner,
The fatherless, the friendless, and the widow,
Who daily owe the bounty of thy hand,
Shall cry to Heaven, and pull a blessing on thee.
Your bounty is beyond my speaking;
But though my mouth be dumb, my heart shall thank you.
Your bounty is beyond my speaking;
But though my mouth be dumb, my heart shall thank you.
From every blush that kindles in thy cheeks,
Ten thousand little loves and graces spring
To revel read more
From every blush that kindles in thy cheeks,
Ten thousand little loves and graces spring
To revel in the roses.