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Post by Frater G on Dec 6, 2011 16:18:37 GMT -5
Build thee more stately mansions O my soul! As the swift seasons roll, Leave thy low vaulted past, Let each new temple, nobler than the last, Shut thee from heaven with a dome more vast, Till thou at length art free, Leaving thine outgrown shell by life's unresting sea.
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Post by vajramukti on Dec 14, 2011 23:24:46 GMT -5
Very nice. Rings deep.
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