Certainly, at some hour, though perhaps not hour, the waiting waters will stir; in shape, though perhaps not the shape you dreamed, which your heart loved, and for which it bled, the healing herald will descend.
Charlotte Bronte
Certainly, at some hour, though perhaps not hour, the waiting waters will stir; in shape, though perhaps not the shape you dreamed, which your heart loved, and for which it bled, the healing herald will descend.