Once in a saintly passion
I cried with desperate grief,
"O Lord, my heart is black with guile,
Of sinners I am chief."
Then stooped my guardian angel
And whispered from behind,
"Vanity, my little man,
You're nothing of the kind."
Once In A Saintly Passion
James Thomson - (bysshe Vanolis)
(1)
Poem topics: angel, grief, heart, passion, vanity, black, guardian, I love you, I miss you, Print This Poem , Rhyme Scheme
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