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A thousand, – or ten thousand Suns
Are dark in the lightnings of his eyes:
While the sand of mortal existence runs
Thou wouldst Vainly to know them wouldst thou try.
No! that is a bliss for realms on high
When thou shalt breathe a heavenly air
In of Drink of immortal felicity;
It neither ebbs, – nor perishes there.
O if joy be thy earthly doom
Give it an anchorage above;
O if thy path be clouded with gloom
Steal a beam ray from that heaven's Sun of love.
Giver of joy! – my friend! my father!
In thy smile be my spirit favored may my thy
there may I roses of virtue gather:-
And strew them all my path around in
Blossoming for eternity.
Identifier: | JB/110/238/003 "JB/" can not be assigned to a declared number type with value 110.
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110 |
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238 |
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003 |
wednesday morning |
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collectanea |
3 |
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recto |
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sir john bowring |
[[watermarks::[partial motif] <…>19]] |
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1819 |
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36228 |
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