Page:The inn of dreams (1911).djvu/17

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The Kingdom of Heaven

O world that holds me by the wings,
How shall my soul escape your snares?
So dear are your delightful things,
So difficult your toils and cares:
That, every way my soul is held
By bonds of love, and bonds of hate;
With all its heavenly ardours quelled,
And all its angels desolate . . .

Yet in the heart of every child,
God and the world are reconciled! . . .

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