I know not if the dark or bright
Shall be by lot;
If that wherein my hopes delight
Be best or not.
- Henry Alford, Life's Answer
1 comment:
Anonymous
said...
Out of the bosom of the Air, Out of the cloud-folds of her garments shaken, Over the woodlands brown and bare, Over the harvest-fields forsaken, Silent, and soft, and slow Descends the snow. - Henry Wadsworth Longfellow, Snow-Flakes
1 comment:
Out of the bosom of the Air,
Out of the cloud-folds of her garments shaken,
Over the woodlands brown and bare,
Over the harvest-fields forsaken,
Silent, and soft, and slow
Descends the snow.
- Henry Wadsworth Longfellow, Snow-Flakes
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