Songs of the Soul/Part 1/Whispers

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WHISPERS

Leaves do sigh,They can not speakOf One That’s high.The birds do scream,They can not singWhat in their bosom springs.The beasts do howlIn sadness foul,They can never say as nighAs doth in their feelings lie.Since I can sing or say or cryI will mighty tryTo pour out whispers Thine,—one and eachThat to heart doth softly reach.
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