Maxioms by Edmund Spenser
Entire affection hateth nicer hands.
Entire affection hateth nicer hands.
And on his brest a bloodie crosse he bore,
The deare remembrance of his dying Lord,
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And on his brest a bloodie crosse he bore,
The deare remembrance of his dying Lord,
For whose sweete sake that glorious badge he wore.
Who will not mercie unto others show,
How can he mercie ever hope to have?
Who will not mercie unto others show,
How can he mercie ever hope to have?
Although the last, not least.
Although the last, not least.
It is an honourable thing to be merciful to the vanquished.
It is an honourable thing to be merciful to the vanquished.
