Whether my life had been before that sleep
The Heaven which I imagine, or a Hell
Like this harsh world in which I wake to weep,
I know not.
Whether my life had been before that sleep
The Heaven which I imagine, or a Hell
Like this harsh world in which I wake to weep,
I know not.
If we reason, we would be understood if we imagine, we would that the airy children of our brain were born anew within another s if we feel, we would that another's nerves should vibrate to our own, that the beams of their eyes should kindle at once and mix and melt into our own, that lips of motionless ice should not reply to lips quivering and burning with the heart's best blood. This is Love.
they know not--till the night of death,
As sunset that strange vision, severeth
Our memory from itself, and us from all
We sought and yet were baffled.
Whatever strengthens and purifies the affections, enlarges the imagination, and adds spirit to sense, is useful.
The great instrument of moral good is the imagination.
The spirit of sweet human love has sent
A vision to the sleep of him who spurned
Her choicest gifts.
And then a Vision on my brain was rolled.
© 2020 Inspirational Stories
© 2020 Inspirational Stories