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In the convent clad in grey,
Sat the monks in lonely cells, Paced the cloisters, knelt to pray, And the poet heard their bells; But his rhymes Found other chimes Nearer to the earth than they.
Longfellow "Olive Basseiin.*
Swiftly walk over the western wave,
Spirit of Night! Out of the misty eastern cave, Where, all the long and lone daylight, Thou wovest dreams of joy and fear, Which make thee terrible and dear, Swift be thy flight!
Shelley. " To Night"
We are so unlike each other
Thou and I, that none could guess We were children of one mother
But for mutual tenderness. Thou art rose-lined from the cold, And meant, verily, to hold Life's new pleasures manifold.
Mrs. Browning. " Bertha in the Lano.H
Though, like a wanderer,
The sun gone down, Darkness be over me,
My rest a stone ; Yet in my dreams I'd be Nearer, my God, to TheeŚ
Nearer to Thee.
Sarah Flower Adams-