Maxioms by John Dryden
Dreams are but interludes, which fancy makes;
When monarch reason sleeps, this mimic wakes.
Dreams are but interludes, which fancy makes;
When monarch reason sleeps, this mimic wakes.
Beware of the fury of the patient man. -John Dryden.
Beware of the fury of the patient man. -John Dryden.
Our souls sit close and silently within,
And their own web from their own entrails spin;
And read more
Our souls sit close and silently within,
And their own web from their own entrails spin;
And when eyes meet far off, our sense is such,
That, spider like, we feel the tenderest touch.
Out of the solar walk and Heaven's highway.
Out of the solar walk and Heaven's highway.
