Vegan Grandma

Wednesday, November 15, 2006

The Hermit
by Oliver Goldsmith

No flocks that range the valley free,
To slaughter I condemn;
Taught by the power that pities me,
I learn to pity them.

But from the mountain’s grassy side,
a guiltless feast I bring,
A script with herbs and fruit supplied,
And water from the spring.


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