Maxioms by Lord Alfred Tennyson
The slow, sweet hours that bring us all things good.
The slow, sweet hours that bring us all things good.
Ring out, will bells, to the wild sky,
The flying cloud, the frosty light.
Ring out, will bells, to the wild sky,
The flying cloud, the frosty light.
Happy he
With such a mother! faith in womankind
Beats with his blood, and trust in all read more
Happy he
With such a mother! faith in womankind
Beats with his blood, and trust in all things high
Comes easy to him, and though he trip and fall,
He shall not blind his soul with clay.
As the many-winter'd crow that leads the clanging rookery home.
As the many-winter'd crow that leads the clanging rookery home.
The great world's altar stairs
That slope through darkness up to God.
The great world's altar stairs
That slope through darkness up to God.
