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H
abit is the hand that shapes the heart.
A
soul becomes the soldier of its faith.
P
eace prevails through courage and by art.
P
ride is vanity, the preacher saith.
Y
et love is sky to mountains and to seas.
E
vil and good lie blissful in its arms.
A
ll may find that joy with equal ease,
S
unlight radiant above life's storms.
T
he character is written on the face
E
ven as the soul receives its grace,
R
estored to innocence and on its knees.
Easter
Is a Time of Love |