“I bring you with reverent hands
The books of my numberless dreams.”

Source: The Wind Among the Reeds

Last update Sept. 27, 2023. History

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W.B. Yeats255

Irish poet and playwright 1865–1939

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Context: Nothing in my hand I bring,
Simply to thy Cross I cling;
Naked, come to Thee for Dress,
Helpless, look to Thee for grace;
Vile, I to the fountain fly,
Wash me, Saviour, or I die!