Maxioms by Thomas Hood
At night, to his own dark fancies a prey,
He lies like a hedgehog rolled up the wrong way,
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At night, to his own dark fancies a prey,
He lies like a hedgehog rolled up the wrong way,
Tormenting himself with his prickles.
A man of refined taste and judgment.
A man of refined taste and judgment.
But who would rush at a benighted man, and give him two black eyes for being blind?.
But who would rush at a benighted man, and give him two black eyes for being blind?.
Seem'd washing his hand with invisible soap
In imperceptible water.
Seem'd washing his hand with invisible soap
In imperceptible water.
