When winds are raging o’er the upper ocean
And billows wild contend with angry roar,
’Tis said, far down beneath the wild commotion
That peaceful stillness reigneth evermore.
Far, far beneath, the noise of tempests dieth
And silver waves chime ever peacefully,
And no rude storm, how fierce so e’er it flyeth
Disturbs the Sabbath of that deeper sea.
Harriet Beecher Stowe
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Doesn’t miss Paris just look so regal?? And it looks like she enjoys that spot in the garden……
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