Maxioms by Ben Jonson
The voice so sweet, the words so fair,
As some soft chime had stroked the air;
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The voice so sweet, the words so fair,
As some soft chime had stroked the air;
And though the sound had parted thence,
Still left an echo in the sense.
Her treading would not bend a blade of grass,
Or shake the downy blow-ball from his stalk!
Her treading would not bend a blade of grass,
Or shake the downy blow-ball from his stalk!
In the hope to meet
Shortly again, and make our absence sweet.
In the hope to meet
Shortly again, and make our absence sweet.
They that know no evil will suspect none.
They that know no evil will suspect none.
The Devil is an ass, I do acknowledge it.
The Devil is an ass, I do acknowledge it.
