|
|
Another To God.
By Robert Herrick
Though Thou be'st all that active love
Which heats those ravished souls above;
And though all joys spring from the glance
Of Thy most winning countenance;
Yet sour and grim Thou'dst seem to me
If through my Christ I saw not Thee.
Extra Info:
|
|
Printable Page
Add Your Thoughts on this poem.
This page viewed 472 times.
|
|