Maxioms by Lord Alfred Tennyson
This is the reward of my folly.
This is the reward of my folly.
And oft I heard the tender dove
In firry woodlands making moan.
And oft I heard the tender dove
In firry woodlands making moan.
But over all things brooding slept
The quiet sense of something lost.
But over all things brooding slept
The quiet sense of something lost.
And out of darkness came the hands
That reach thro' nature, moulding men.
And out of darkness came the hands
That reach thro' nature, moulding men.
The bearing and the training of a child
Is woman's wisdom.
The bearing and the training of a child
Is woman's wisdom.
