Yet came there never voice nor sign;
But through my being stole
Sense of a Universe divine,
And knowledge of a soul
Perfected in the joy of things,
The star, the flower, the bird that sings. (Francis William Bourdillon)

Yet came there never voice nor sign; But through my being stole Sense of a Universe divine, And knowledge of a soul Perfected in the joy of things, The star, the flower, the bird that sings.

Francis William Bourdillon

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bird came divine flower joy knowledge nor sense sign soul star stole universe voice yet things

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