The Story
of Saville
For the soul that was but as a reed in the wind hath attained a Nirvana of calm,
And is in this feverous desert of life a fountain of healing and balm,
And pilgrims shall be refreshed thereat, shall gratefully lave and drink,
And maidens shall garlands wreathe of forget-me-nots fringing the brink,
And many shall love the spring fern-hidden, shall precious esteem it and dear,
Not knowing what throes volcanic and fierce have left it so crystalline clear.
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