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1835–1900

This tiny life, with exquisite wings...

Theodore Harding Rand

This tiny life, with exquisite wings, Is one with all earth's moving things; The light that burns in great Arcturus Is tinct with gold of our wedding rings.

In every fibre, every jot, The universe is one, I wot Great God, Thou'rt One, and we Thy offspring Can see some angles of Thy wide thought.

Thy footprints mark the ageless years, Thy hand authenticates the spheres; The voice of Time, the hush eternal, One anthem sound in Thy listening ears.

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This tiny life, with exquisite wings... · Theodore Harding Rand · Poetry Cove