Nonsense #38

Say good Sir! Shall
We tarry here?
The sun does shine
So brightly, and the birds
Sing so freely- hark
A beauteous vision
Of colour. ‘Tis a watercolour
Landscape, hills
like the very curves
Of an Angel, I see you think
Much of the place.
Let us tarry then
For there is nowhere before
God that is closer to Heaven.

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