Regardless by,
But stop to pick it up because,
Oh, lovely thought!
The name of God may thereupon
Perchance be wrought.
In every human soul remains,
However dim,
Some image of the Deity,
Some trace of Him.
And how can we, then, any scorn
Regardless by,
But stop to pick it up because,
Oh, lovely thought!
The name of God may thereupon
Perchance be wrought.
In every human soul remains,
However dim,
Some image of the Deity,
Some trace of Him.
And how can we, then, any scorn