These fairest moments slip from fingertips,
Which clasp now time, whilst grasping for repose,
In those immortal lands, where man's old foes,
Shall never go, and where from hope now drips.
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bottom of page
These fairest moments slip from fingertips,
Which clasp now time, whilst grasping for repose,
In those immortal lands, where man's old foes,
Shall never go, and where from hope now drips.
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