Maxioms by William Combe (coombe)
Where'er his fancy bids him roam,
In ev'ry Inn he finds a home--
. . . .
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Where'er his fancy bids him roam,
In ev'ry Inn he finds a home--
. . . .
Will not an Inn his cares beguile,
Where on each face he sees a smile?
Along the varying road of life,
In calm content, in toil or strife,
At morn or noon, read more
Along the varying road of life,
In calm content, in toil or strife,
At morn or noon, by night or day,
As time conducts him on his way,
How oft doth man, by care oppressed,
Find in an Inn a place of rest.
