And for all this, nature is never spent; There lives the dearest freshness deep down things; And though the last lights off the black west went; Oh morning at brown brink eastward, springs- because the Holy Ghost over the bent world broods with warm breast and Ah!
And for all this, nature is never spent; There lives the dearest freshness deep down things; And though the last lights off the black west went Oh, morning, at brown brink eastward, springs- because the Holy Ghost over the bent world broods with warm breast and Ah!
