Maxioms by Sir Aubrey De Vere
O Love-star of the unbeloved March,
When cold and shrill,
Forth flows beneath a low, dim-lighted arch
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O Love-star of the unbeloved March,
When cold and shrill,
Forth flows beneath a low, dim-lighted arch
The wind that beats sharp crag and barren hill,
And keeps unfilmed the lately torpid rill!
There is no remedy for time misspent;
No healing for the waste of idleness,
Whose very languor read more
There is no remedy for time misspent;
No healing for the waste of idleness,
Whose very languor is a punishment
Heavier than active souls can feel or guess.
