We live between the years; Thought pulses on
When lips are mute; and heart-throbs, are alone
The spirit's wings, beating its cage of clay—
Longing to rise to Heaven's life, away!
When lips are mute; and heart-throbs, are alone
The spirit's wings, beating its cage of clay—
Longing to rise to Heaven's life, away!
ADVICE
The longer that I live,
The stronger I believe,
That 'tis more blessed this to give,
Than 'tis to this receive!
The stronger I believe,
That 'tis more blessed this to give,
Than 'tis to this receive!
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