McNamara's Blog
NOSTALGIA By Sister M. Angelita
Sometimes when autumn’s mellow sunlight spills
On painted pomp of wooded heights the while,
My heart grows homesick for the eternal hills
Bathed in the fadeless splendor of His smile.
On painted pomp of wooded heights the while,
My heart grows homesick for the eternal hills
Bathed in the fadeless splendor of His smile.
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