O the mind, mind has mountains cliffs of fall Frightful, sheer, no-man-fathomed. Hold them cheap May who ne'er hung there.
O the mind, mind has mountains cliffs of fall Frightful, sheer, no-man-fathomed. Hold them cheap May who ne'er hung there.
The fine delight that fathers thought the strong Spur, live and lancing like the blowpipe flame, Breathes once and, quenchd faster than it came, Leaves yet the mind a mother of immortal song.
© 2020 Inspirational Stories
© 2020 Inspirational Stories