Maxioms by Edwin Arnold
A little rain will fill
The lily's cup which hardly moists the field.
A little rain will fill
The lily's cup which hardly moists the field.
We are the voices of the wandering wind,
Which moan for rest and rest can never find;
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We are the voices of the wandering wind,
Which moan for rest and rest can never find;
Lo! as the wind is so is mortal life,
A moan, a sigh, a sob, a storm, a strife.
That rich celestial music thrilled the air
From hosts on hosts shining ones, who thronged
Eastward and read more
That rich celestial music thrilled the air
From hosts on hosts shining ones, who thronged
Eastward and westward, making bright the night.
The royal kingcup bold
Dares not don his coat of gold.
The royal kingcup bold
Dares not don his coat of gold.
