Maxioms by Robert Browning
From the sprinkled isles,
Lily on lily, that o'erlace the sea.
From the sprinkled isles,
Lily on lily, that o'erlace the sea.
What? Was man made a wheel-work to wind up,
And be discharged, and straight wound up anew?
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What? Was man made a wheel-work to wind up,
And be discharged, and straight wound up anew?
No! grown, his growth lasts; taught, he ne'er forgets;
May learn a thousand things, not twice the same.
'Tis not what man Does which exalts him, but what man Would do.
'Tis not what man Does which exalts him, but what man Would do.
Who hears music feels his solitude peopled at once.
Who hears music feels his solitude peopled at once.
