English poem
I
Unto the spring of purest life Aspires my withered heart, My soul confined in this flesh Employs both strength and art Working, struggling, suing still From exile home to part.
Versos English Thomas Traherne I
Versos English Thomas Traherne I
English poem
Unto the spring of purest life Aspires my withered heart, My soul confined in this flesh Employs both strength and art Working, struggling, suing still From exile home to part.