Generations have trod, have trod, have trod;
And all is seared with trade; bleared, smeared with toil;
And wears man’s smudge and shares man’s smell: the soil
Is bare now, nor can foot feel, being shod.
And for all this, nature is never spent;
There lives the dearest freshness deep down things...
Wednesday 1 January 2014
One Thing Remains
May your unfailing love be my comfort... (Psalm 119:76)
1 comment:
mama
said...
This is incredible! What a truth to remember! Thank you for posting this! Love you to pieces.
1 comment:
This is incredible! What a truth to remember!
Thank you for posting this! Love you to pieces.
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