Beloved! amid the earnest woes
That crowd around my earthly payh-
(Dear path, alas! where grows
Not even one lonely rose)-
My soul at least a solace hath
In dreams of thee, and therein konws
An Eden of bland repose.
We鈥檝e updated our privacy policy so that we are compliant with changing global privacy regulations and to provide you with insight into the limited ways in which we use your data.
You can read the details below. By accepting, you agree to the updated privacy policy.
