To ..........
Let other bards of angels sing, Bright suns without a spot; But thou art no such perfect thing: Rejoice that thou art not! Heed not tho' none should call thee fair; So, Mary, let it be If nought in loveliness compare With what thou art to me. True beauty dwells in deep retreats, Whose veil is unremoved Till heart with heart in concord beats, And the lover is beloved.
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"Let other bards of angels sing,..."
William Wordsworth's contribution to classic is further solidified by the brilliance found in "To .........."... ### Why We Love This Line At Linespedia, we believe that poetry is the ultimate sanctuary for the soul...