Ye living lamps, by whose dear lightThe nightingale does sit so lateAnd studying all the summer night,Her matchless songs does meditate.
Ye living lamps, by whose dear lightThe nightingale does sit so lateAnd studying all the summer night,Her matchless songs does meditate.
To scatter Roman darkness by this lightThe loss of land and life I'll reckon slight.
© 2020 Inspirational Stories
© 2020 Inspirational Stories