The Golden Legend by Henry Wadsworth Longfellow
page 24 of 177 (13%)
page 24 of 177 (13%)
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Walked the Monk Felix. All about
The broad, sweet sunshine lay without, Filling the summer air; And within the woodlands as he trod, The twilight was like the Truce of God With worldly woe and care; Under him lay the golden moss; And above him the boughs of hemlock-tree Waved, and made the sign of the cross, And whispered their Benedicites; And from the ground Rose an odor sweet and fragrant Of the wild flowers and the vagrant Vines that wandered, Seeking the sunshine, round and round. These he heeded not, but pondered On the volume in his hand, A volume of Saint Augustine; Wherein he read of the unseen Splendors of God's great town In the unknown land, And, with his eyes cast down In humility, he said: "I believe, O God, What herein I have read, But alas! I do not understand!" And lo! he heard The sudden singing of a bird, A snow-white bird, that from a cloud |
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