Each hour until we meet is as a bird
That wings from far his gradual way along
The rustling covert of my soul.


Winged Hours. - The House of Life (1870—1881)


Each hour until we meet is as a bird That wings from far his gradual way along The rustling covert of my soul.

Each hour until we meet is as a bird That wings from far his gradual way along The rustling covert of my soul.

Each hour until we meet is as a bird That wings from far his gradual way along The rustling covert of my soul.

Each hour until we meet is as a bird That wings from far his gradual way along The rustling covert of my soul.