Stilling the Tempest
'TWAS all she could:—The gift that Nature gave,
The torrent of her tresses—did she spill
Before His feet: and lo, the troubled wave
Of passion heard His whisper, “Peace, be still!”
The torrent of her tresses—did she spill
Before His feet: and lo, the troubled wave
Of passion heard His whisper, “Peace, be still!”
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