Could we with ink the ocean fill,
and were the skies of parchment made,
Were every stalk on earth a quill,
and every man a scribe by trade;
To write of the love of God above
would drain the ocean dry;
Nor could a scroll contain the whole,
tho' stretched from sky to sky.
and were the skies of parchment made,
Were every stalk on earth a quill,
and every man a scribe by trade;
To write of the love of God above
would drain the ocean dry;
Nor could a scroll contain the whole,
tho' stretched from sky to sky.
-Frederick Lehman
Welcome, October!
A season of contemplation.
A season of contemplation.
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