Maxioms by William Congreve
For blessings ever wait on virtuous deeds,
And though a late, a sure reward succeeds.
For blessings ever wait on virtuous deeds,
And though a late, a sure reward succeeds.
Music hath charm to soothe a savage breast, To soften rocks, or bend a knotted oak.
Music hath charm to soothe a savage breast, To soften rocks, or bend a knotted oak.
I came up-stairs into the world; for I was born in a cellar.
I came up-stairs into the world; for I was born in a cellar.
Heaven has no rage like love to hatred turn'd,
Nor hell a fury like a woman scorned.
Heaven has no rage like love to hatred turn'd,
Nor hell a fury like a woman scorned.
Heaven has no rage like love to hatred turned, Nor hell a fury like a woman scorned.
Heaven has no rage like love to hatred turned, Nor hell a fury like a woman scorned.
