Maxioms by John Milton
Till old experience do attain
To something like prophetic strain.
Till old experience do attain
To something like prophetic strain.
The swan, with arched neck
Between her white wings mantling proudly, rows
Her state with oary feet.
The swan, with arched neck
Between her white wings mantling proudly, rows
Her state with oary feet.
Now conscience wakes despair
That slumber'd, wakes the bitter memory
Of what he was, what is, and read more
Now conscience wakes despair
That slumber'd, wakes the bitter memory
Of what he was, what is, and what must be
Worse; of worse deeds worse sufferings must ensue!
