Which breathes through Nature. Oh, the world is weak !

But, like a wind-exposed distorted tree,

To the individuｒｅaｄ.99cｓw•coｍal, true, and the universe,

And what we best conceive we fail to speak.

Fit peroration without hｔｔps://ｒｅａd•９9ｃｓw.coｍlet or thrall.

The effluence of each is false to all,

Some inward tho九-九-藏-書ught, my soul throbs audibly

And then resume thy broken strains, and seek

Along my pulses, yearning to be free

We ar九-九-藏-書e blown against for ever by the curse

And something farther, fuller, higherhｔｔpｓ://reａｄ.99ｃsw.ｃｏｍ, rehearse

When I attain to utter forth in verse

Wait, soul, until thine ashen garments fall,

In consummation of right harmony: