I must not think of thee and, tired yet strong, I shun the thought that lurks in all delight - The thought of thee - and in the blue heaven's height, And in the sweetest passage of a song.
I must not think of thee and, tired yet strong, I shun the thought that lurks in all delight - The thought of thee - and in the blue heaven's height, And in the sweetest passage of a song.
Happiness is not a matter of events; it depends upon the tides of the mind.
Recurrence is sure. What the mind suffered last week, or last year, it does not suffer now but it will suffer again next week or next year.
© 2020 Inspirational Stories
© 2020 Inspirational Stories