XLVII
I heard it whispered in the cryptic streets
Where every sage the same dumb shadow meets:
“We are but words fallen from the lips of Time
Which God, that we might understand, repeats.”
XLVII
I heard it whispered in the cryptic streets
Where every sage the same dumb shadow meets:
“We are but words fallen from the lips of Time
Which God, that we might understand, repeats.”