Maxioms by Jean Ingelow
Against her ankles as she trod
The lucky buttercups did nod.
Against her ankles as she trod
The lucky buttercups did nod.
And bitter waxed the fray;
Brother with brother spake no word
When they met in the way.
And bitter waxed the fray;
Brother with brother spake no word
When they met in the way.
