Maxioms by John Milton
Her rash hand in evil hour
Forth reaching to the fruit, she pluck'd, she eat;
Earth felt read more
Her rash hand in evil hour
Forth reaching to the fruit, she pluck'd, she eat;
Earth felt the wound, and Nature from her seat
Sighing through all her works gave signs of woe
That all was lost.
Let his tormentor conscience find him out.
Let his tormentor conscience find him out.
I was all ear,
And took in strains that might create a soul
Under the ribs of read more
I was all ear,
And took in strains that might create a soul
Under the ribs of death.
