Our True Selves Are Angelic
On The World
The world's an inn; and I her guest.
I eat; I drink; I take my rest.
My hostess, nature, does deny me
Nothing, wherewith she can supply me;
Where, having stayed a while, I pay
Her lavish bills, and go my way.
Posted by sugarsandsalts At 8:40 AM
Labels: Poem by Francis Quarles
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1 comment:
This is quite a precious poem.
And thank you for your wonderful comments. You are so generous with your compliments... you will 'turn my head.' :-))))
Mari-Nanci
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