Poem on The Mystery of Love by Oscar Wilde

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“With such glad dreams I sought this holy place,
And now with wondering eyes and heart I stand
Before this supreme mystery of Love:
A kneeling girl with passionless pale face,
An angel with a lily in his hand,
And over both with outstretched wings the Dove.”

By: Oscar Wilde
Excerpt from: Ave Maria Plena Gratia


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