Maxioms by John Milton
If all the world
Should in a pet of temp'rance, feed on pulse,
Drink the clear stream, read more
If all the world
Should in a pet of temp'rance, feed on pulse,
Drink the clear stream, and nothing wear but frieze,
Th' All-giver would be unthank'd, would be unprais'd.
Swings the scaly horror of his folded tail.
Swings the scaly horror of his folded tail.
For never can true reconcilement grow,
Where wounds of deadly hate have pierced so deep.
For never can true reconcilement grow,
Where wounds of deadly hate have pierced so deep.
He seemed
For dignity compos'd and high exploit:
But all was false and hollow.
He seemed
For dignity compos'd and high exploit:
But all was false and hollow.
