Flowers, cloud‐scattered skies, and all beautiful, blossoming scenery: all these only suggest Thy divinity. I enjoy them—I revel in them!
But then they remind me of Thee. In that remembrance, these mere (though glorious) messengers vanish, and the beauty of my own beloved Infinity enthralls me.
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206. Divine Mother, Come Thyself Into the Waiting Temple of Our Love
