  "Would that my acts could equal the noble acts I've told. Would that I could but master myself as visions bold!" So cried a famous artist, in agony of soul, As waves of great temptation before him high did roll. "Oh, would that I could body the thoughts that govern me. Oh, would that I could picture the visions I foresee!" So cried a saintly woman, in ecstasy of pain, As waves of sad depression rolled on her soul to gain. |
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