Beautiful must be the mountains whence ye come, And bright in the fruitful valleys the streams, wherefrom Ye learn your song.
Beautiful must be the mountains whence ye come, And bright in the fruitful valleys the streams, wherefrom Ye learn your song.
Beauty sat with me all the summer day, Awaiting the sure triumph of her eye Nor mark'd I till we parted, how, hard by, Love in her train stood ready for his prey.
Beauty, the eternal Spouse of the Wisdom of God and Angel of his Presence thru' all creation.
© 2020 Inspirational Stories
© 2020 Inspirational Stories