介绍五码二期全天计划

Wrinkles collected,

By street and by lane held in awe, sirs;And may be seen, like old Frederick the Great,

Hang not the heavens their arch overhead?Lies not the earth beneath us, firm?Gleam not with kindly glancesEternal stars on high?Looks not mine eye deep into thine?And do not all thingsCrowd on thy head and heart,And round thee twine, in mystery eterne,Invisible, yet visible?Fill, then, thy heart, however vast, with this,And when the feeling perfecteth thy bliss,O, call it what thou wilt,Call it joy! heart! love! God!No name for it I know!'Tis feeling all--nought else;Name is but sound and smoke,Obscuring heaven's bright glow.