Purpose is but the slave to memory,
Of violent birth, but poor validity;
Which now, like fruit unripe, sticks on the tree,
But fill unshaken when they mellow be.
Purpose is but the slave to memory,
Of violent birth, but poor validity;
Which now, like fruit unripe, sticks on the tree,
But fill unshaken when they mellow be.
Sir, those cold ways,
That seem like prudent helps, are very poisonous
Where the disease is violent.
© 2020 Inspirational Stories
© 2020 Inspirational Stories