Were there but one deep, holy spell, whereby
Always I should remember thee--some mode
Of feeling the pure heart-throb momently
Of the spirit-fire still uttering this I!
Lord, see thou to it, take thou remembrance' load:
Only when I bethink me can I cry;
Remember thou, and prick me with love's goad.
[Diary of an Old Soul, George McDonald]
Thursday, April 02, 2009
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