Little pains In a due hour employ'd great profit yields.
Little pains In a due hour employ'd great profit yields.
When the sappy boughs Attire themselves with blooms, sweet rudiments Of future harvest.
My galligaskins, that have long withstood The winter's fury, and encroaching frosts, By time subdued (what will not time subdue), A horrid chasm disclosed.
© 2020 Inspirational Stories
© 2020 Inspirational Stories