"When by my solitary hearth I sit,When no fair dreams before my “mind’s eye” flit,And the bare heath of life presents no bloom;Sweet Hope, ethereal bal...
Yes, in spite of all, Some shape of beauty moves away the pall From our dark spirits.
Photo by Ákos Szabó
Photo by Ian Turnell
Yes, in spite of all, Some shape of beauty moves away the pall From our dark spirits.