English poem
Xxxi
As music made of rolling thunder That hurls through heaven its heart sublime, Its heart of joy, in charging chime, So ring the songs that round and under Her temple surge and climb.
Versos English Algernon Charles Swinburne Xxxi
English poem
As music made of rolling thunder That hurls through heaven its heart sublime, Its heart of joy, in charging chime, So ring the songs that round and under Her temple surge and climb.