Maxioms by Thomas Hood
A man perfect to the finger tips.
A man perfect to the finger tips.
How bravely Autumn paints upon the sky
The gorgeous fame of Summer which is fled!
How bravely Autumn paints upon the sky
The gorgeous fame of Summer which is fled!
The lily is all in white, like a saint,
And so is no mate for me.
The lily is all in white, like a saint,
And so is no mate for me.
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?.
She stood breast-high amid the corn,
Clasp'd by the golden light of morn,
Like the sweetheart of read more
She stood breast-high amid the corn,
Clasp'd by the golden light of morn,
Like the sweetheart of the sun,
Who many a glowing kiss had won.
