Maxioms by Henry Wadsworth Longfellow
Night after night,
He sat and bleared his eyes with books.
Night after night,
He sat and bleared his eyes with books.
Sleep... Oh! how I loathe those little slices of death....
Sleep... Oh! how I loathe those little slices of death....
Sweet April! many a thought
Is wedded unto thee, as hearts are wed;
Nor shall they fail, read more
Sweet April! many a thought
Is wedded unto thee, as hearts are wed;
Nor shall they fail, till, to its autumn brought,
Life's golden fruit is shed.
That which the fountain sends forth returns again to the fountain.
That which the fountain sends forth returns again to the fountain.
A boy's will is the wind's will.
A boy's will is the wind's will.
