The Confessional

... It does trouble me.No, trouble's a bad word: for as I walkThere's springing and melody and giddiness;And old quaint turns and passages of my youth,Dreams long forgotten ...Return to me.

Pippa Passes.

The soul has the wings of a butterflyWhen it drinks the flowers;And the wings of a birdWhen it sings of love in the wood;But the wings of an angelWhen it flies toward God

“The soul has the wings of a butterflyWhen it drinks the flowers;And the wings of a birdWhen it sings of love in the wood——”

“The soul has the wings of a butterflyWhen it drinks the flowers;And the wings of a birdWhen it sings of love in the wood;But the wings of an angelWhen it flies toward God.”