Sonnet on the Inward Pleasure of Our Human Soul - Henry Alford

Richard Mitchley - Pop
Sonnet on the Inward Pleasure of Our Human Soul - Henry Alford
2 Plays
Duration: 0:51
Lyrics
The inward pleasure of our human soul Oweth no homage to the tyrant Will: Whether the roving spirit take its fill Of strange delight, watching the far waves roll And break upon the shore,--or by the bowl Of some moss--lined fountain cool and still Or by the music of a tinkling rill Wander in maze of thought, without control: Nor can the chains of ill--assured belief Fetter the strivings of the deathless mind; Nor dull prescription bound the throes of grief; Spirits, in action nor degree confined Range the vast system:--whither, then, should I But to sweet Nature for my wisdom fly?
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Credits
- Writers
- Henry Alford