“To pile like Thunder to its close, Then crumble grand away, While everything created hid – This would be Poetry: Or Love, – the two coeval came – We both and neither prove, Experience either, and consume – For none see God and live.”
“To pile like Thunder to its close, Then crumble grand away, While everything created hid – This would be Poetry: Or Love, – the two coeval came – We both and neither prove, Experience either, and consume – For none see God and live.”
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