Thy soul shall enter on its heritage
Of God’s unuttered wisdom. Thou shalt sweep
With hand assured the ringing lyre of life,
Till the fierce anguish of its bitter strife,
Its pain, death, discord, sorrow, and despair,
Break into rhythmic music. Thou shalt share
The prophet-joy that kept forever glad
God’s poet-souls when all a world was sad.
Enter and live! Thou hast not lived before.
—S. Weir Mitchell.
This image does not belong to Belijose’s Fashion Hauz.
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