Maxioms by William Shakespeare
O, how wretched
Is that poor man that hangs on princes' favors!
There is betwixt that smile read more
O, how wretched
Is that poor man that hangs on princes' favors!
There is betwixt that smile we would aspire to,
That sweet aspect of princes, and their ruin,
More pangs and fears than wars or women have;
And when he falls, he falls like Lucifer,
Never to hope again.
Come, seeling night,
Scarf up the tender eye of pitiful day,
And with thy bloody and invisible read more
Come, seeling night,
Scarf up the tender eye of pitiful day,
And with thy bloody and invisible hand
Cancel and tear to pieces that great bond
Which keeps me pale. Light thickens, and the crow
Makes wing to th' rooky wood.
Good things of day begin to droop and drowse,
While night's black agents to their prey do rouse.
Wisely, I say, I am a bachelor.
Wisely, I say, I am a bachelor.
Mercy is not itself, that oft looks so;
Pardon is still the nurse of second woe.
Mercy is not itself, that oft looks so;
Pardon is still the nurse of second woe.
Why, that's spoken like an honest drovier. So they sell
bullocks.
Why, that's spoken like an honest drovier. So they sell
bullocks.
