There was one conversant with all arts. Now she is gone who made me young again. Alone I face the future and alone Must live the present, knowledge to attain Of lives long past and loves to me unknown. Can we say that tears are useless if they wake Our grief to understanding and our minds Return to calm and let the soul partake Of vastness and the healing of the winds That carry the message of diviner love To the spirit seeking in a slumberous haze Something that it feels but knows not of Lest light illumine our common days And we feel the touch of heaven in our hearts.
Poems Undated (1727)
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