Maxioms by Arthur Hugh Clough
What voice did on my spirit fall,
Peschiera, when thy bridge I crost?
'Tis better to have read more
What voice did on my spirit fall,
Peschiera, when thy bridge I crost?
'Tis better to have fought and lost
That never to have fought at all!
It fortifies my soul to know That though I perish, truth is so; That, wheresoe'er I stray and range, Whate'er read more
It fortifies my soul to know That though I perish, truth is so; That, wheresoe'er I stray and range, Whate'er I do, Thou dost not change. I steadier step when I recall That, if I slip, Thou dost not fall.
