Maxioms by Guillaume De Salluste Du Bartas
Apoplexic, and Lethargie,
As forlorn hope, assault the enemy.
Apoplexic, and Lethargie,
As forlorn hope, assault the enemy.
Or (almost) like a Spider, who, confin'd
In her Web's centre, shakt with every winde,
Moves in read more
Or (almost) like a Spider, who, confin'd
In her Web's centre, shakt with every winde,
Moves in an instant, if the buzzing Flie
Stir but a string of her Lawn Canopie.
- Guillaume de Salluste Du Bartas,
Flesh of thy flesh, nor yet bone of thy bone.
Flesh of thy flesh, nor yet bone of thy bone.
Made no more bones.
Made no more bones.
One must be poor to know the luxury of living.
One must be poor to know the luxury of living.
