I envy not thy hand in his,
But when I pass thee by,
For me there is enough of bliss
May I but hear thee sigh.
SONNET.—THE STARS.
———
BY REV. S. DRYDEN PHELPS.
———
Bright lamps of the illimitable sky!
I envy not thy hand in his,
But when I pass thee by,
For me there is enough of bliss
May I but hear thee sigh.
———
BY REV. S. DRYDEN PHELPS.
———
Bright lamps of the illimitable sky!