Robert Laurence Binyon
From Goethe - Poem by Robert Laurence Binyon
Peace is perfect over
All the hills.
Scarce wilt thou discover
A breath, so still's
The woods are silent; birds have hushed their song.
Wait but thou; ere long
Peace comes to thee.
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Still I Rise
The Road Not Taken
If You Forget Me
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I Do Not Love You Except Because I Love You