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A gift for my friend Rachel, on her sixteenth birthday. |
| Inspire Wearied soul of burden and toil, When flesh is aching and heart is torn Hear the voices of the mother's soil And be one with the world of a winter morn What words are needed when the eyes speak true? When one look says what words cannot express? What power is held in a drop of pale dew? No word says he, but his strength is no less! Such is the power that you hold dear Your mere presence kindling that impassioned fire The spark of wisdom when you draw near My spirit, your confidence doth inspire Blessed warmth when soul grows cold Radiant perfection, so sublime No brighter star, from days of old Hath graced the eternal folds of time! |