Maxioms by Lord Alfred Tennyson
Our wills are ours, we know not how;
Our wills are ours, to make them thine.
Our wills are ours, we know not how;
Our wills are ours, to make them thine.
One of Satan's shepherdesses caught
And meant to stamp him with her master's mark.
One of Satan's shepherdesses caught
And meant to stamp him with her master's mark.
This is the reward of my folly.
This is the reward of my folly.
He clasps the crag with hooked hands;
Close to the sun in lonely lands,
Ring'd with the read more
He clasps the crag with hooked hands;
Close to the sun in lonely lands,
Ring'd with the azure world, he stands.
The wrinkled sea beneath him crawls:
He watches from his mountain walls,
And like a thunderbolt he falls.
To disregard money, on suitable occasions, is often a great
profit.
To disregard money, on suitable occasions, is often a great
profit.
