Things That Never Die (Charles Dickens Poem)
The pure, the bright, the beautiful that stirred our hearts in youth, The impulses to wordless prayer, The streams of ...
The pure, the bright, the beautiful that stirred our hearts in youth, The impulses to wordless prayer, The streams of ...
Life is a game with a glorious prize, If we can only play it right. It is give and take, ...
Why do we close our eyes when we sleep? When we cry? When we imagine? When we kiss? This is ...
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