Chapter 56 No.56

And toward thee our unbreathed words

Fly speechless, winged as birds,

As the Indian flock, children of Paradise,

The winged things without feet,

Fed with God's dew for meat,

That live in the air and light of the utter skies;

So fleet, so flying a footless flight,

With wings for feet love seeks thee, to partake thy sight.

            
            

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