Maxioms by Sir Walter Scott
Great talent has always a little madness mixed up with it.
Great talent has always a little madness mixed up with it.
O, what a tangled web we weave,
When first we practise to deceive!
O, what a tangled web we weave,
When first we practise to deceive!
Breathes there the man with soul so dead,
Who never to himself hath said,
This is my read more
Breathes there the man with soul so dead,
Who never to himself hath said,
This is my own, my native land!
Whose heart hath ne'er within him burn'd,
As home his footsteps he hath turn'd,
From wandering on a foreign strand!
But with the morning cool repentance came.
But with the morning cool repentance came.
Contentions fierce,
Ardent, and dire, spring from no petty cause.
Contentions fierce,
Ardent, and dire, spring from no petty cause.
