The walls are old, the ceiling low,
But through the window lilacs blow
A phantom fragrance, to and fro. . . . . . . . . . .
Her daughter’s house is built of stone,
But she [...]
God may be the earth that quakes,
God may be the wind that shakes,
God may be the storm that breaks;
But this I know: that God can be
Just a moment's ecstasy,
Shaking petals down on me. [...]
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