Maxioms by Sir Walter Scott
O, what a tangled web we weave,
When first we practise to deceive!
O, what a tangled web we weave,
When first we practise to deceive!
He may as well not thank at all, who thanks when none are by.
He may as well not thank at all, who thanks when none are by.
Scared out of his seven senses.
Scared out of his seven senses.
He, who holds out but a doubtful hope of succour to the
afflicted, denies it.
He, who holds out but a doubtful hope of succour to the
afflicted, denies it.
The summer dawn's reflected hue
To purple changed Lock Katrine blue,
Mildly and soft the western breeze
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The summer dawn's reflected hue
To purple changed Lock Katrine blue,
Mildly and soft the western breeze
Just kiss'd the lake, just stirr'd the trees,
And the pleased lake, like maiden coy,
Trembled but dimpled not for joy.
