Paradise (George Herbert Poems)
I BLESSE thee, Lord, because I G R O WAmong thy trees, which in a R O WTo thee both ...
I BLESSE thee, Lord, because I G R O WAmong thy trees, which in a R O WTo thee both ...
How soon doth man decay! When clothes are taken from a chest of sweets To swaddle infants, whose young breath ...
Far spread the moorey ground a level scene Bespread with rush and one eternal green That never felt the rage ...
Summer pleasures they are gone like to visions every one And the cloudy days of autumn and of winter cometh ...
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