Maxioms by John Dryden
He raised a mortal to the skies;
She drew an angel down.
He raised a mortal to the skies;
She drew an angel down.
The winds that never moderation knew,
Afraid to blow too much, too faintly blew;
Or out of read more
The winds that never moderation knew,
Afraid to blow too much, too faintly blew;
Or out of breath with joy, could not enlarge
Their straighten'd lungs or conscious of their charge.
At every close she made, th' attending throng
Replied, and bore the burden of the song:
So read more
At every close she made, th' attending throng
Replied, and bore the burden of the song:
So just, so small, yet in so sweet a note,
It seemed the music melted in the throat.
A fiery soul, which, working out its way,
Fretted the pygmy-body to decay,
And o'er-informed the tenement read more
A fiery soul, which, working out its way,
Fretted the pygmy-body to decay,
And o'er-informed the tenement of clay.
