Maxioms by John Milton
Good luck befriend thee, Son; for at thy birth
The fairy ladies danced upon the hearth.
Good luck befriend thee, Son; for at thy birth
The fairy ladies danced upon the hearth.
Was I deceiv'd, or did a sable cloud
Turn forth her silver lining on the night?
Was I deceiv'd, or did a sable cloud
Turn forth her silver lining on the night?
And, weaponless himself,
Made arms ridiculous.
And, weaponless himself,
Made arms ridiculous.
For smiles from reason flow
To brute deny'd, and are of love the food.
For smiles from reason flow
To brute deny'd, and are of love the food.
Where glowing embers through the room
Teach light to counterfeit a gloom.
Where glowing embers through the room
Teach light to counterfeit a gloom.
