Maxioms by Samuel Taylor Coleridge
A sadder and a wiser man, He rose the morrow morn.
A sadder and a wiser man, He rose the morrow morn.
Dew-drops are the gems of morning,
But the tears of mournful eve!
Dew-drops are the gems of morning,
But the tears of mournful eve!
I dislike the frequent use of the word virtue, instead of righteousness, in the pulpit; in prayer or preaching before read more
I dislike the frequent use of the word virtue, instead of righteousness, in the pulpit; in prayer or preaching before a Christian community, it sounds too much like pagan philosophy.
A mother is a mother still,
The holiest thing alive.
A mother is a mother still,
The holiest thing alive.
Like one, that on a lonesome road
Doth walk in fear and dread,
And having once turned read more
Like one, that on a lonesome road
Doth walk in fear and dread,
And having once turned round, walks on,
And turns no more his head;
Because he knows a frightful fiend
Doth close behind him tread.
