Maxioms by Arthur Christopher Benson
As I make my slow pilgrimage through the world, a certain sense of beautiful mystery seems to gather and grow.
As I make my slow pilgrimage through the world, a certain sense of beautiful mystery seems to gather and grow.
Friend, of my infinite dreams
Little enough endures;
Little howe'er it seems,
It is read more
Friend, of my infinite dreams
Little enough endures;
Little howe'er it seems,
It is yours, all yours.
It is better to avenge a friend than to mourn for him.
It is better to avenge a friend than to mourn for him.
