Maxioms by John Milton
Who, as they sung, would take the prison'd soul
And lap it in Elysium.
Who, as they sung, would take the prison'd soul
And lap it in Elysium.
Dim eclipse, disastrous twilight.
Dim eclipse, disastrous twilight.
Whence and what are thou, execrable shape?
Whence and what are thou, execrable shape?
Yet I argue not
Again Heaven's hand or will, nor bate a jot
Of right or hope; read more
Yet I argue not
Again Heaven's hand or will, nor bate a jot
Of right or hope; but still bear up and steer
Right onward.
Who overcomesBy force, hath overcome but half his foe.
Who overcomesBy force, hath overcome but half his foe.
