Excerpt from Helen Ruthven Waterston The massy gates of Paradise are thrown Wide Open; and forth come, in fragments wild, Sweet echoes of unearthly melody. Coleridge. O dear, sweet, desirable child How shall we part with all this goodness and virtue, without bitterness of sorrow and reluctancy? God grant as grace to bless him for the graces he implanted in thee, thy virtuous life, thy holy death; which, indeed, is the comfort of our...
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Poetry