It is to hope, tho' hope were lost. Toggle format menu With Attribution Quote Only Plain Text With Bio
O gently guide my pilgrim feetTo find thy hermit cell;Where in some pure and equal skyBeneath thy soft indulgent eyeThe modest virtues dwell. Toggle format menu With Attribution Quote Only Plain Text With Bio
Man is the nobler growth our realms supply,And souls are ripen'd in our northern sky. Toggle format menu With Attribution Quote Only Plain Text With Bio
Child of mortality, whence comest thou? Why is thy countenance sad, and why are thine eyes red with weeping? Toggle format menu With Attribution Quote Only Plain Text With Bio