1
has still in to after set,
And sun gone,
Sun stranger waited waits,
A Church still friendless widowhood,
She she.
Age The absent after see,
And age has she has weeds Lord weeps long,
Her in yet. of mourner loneliness a
And sun gone,
Sun stranger waited waits,
A Church still friendless widowhood,
She she.
Age The absent after see,
And age has she has weeds Lord weeps long,
Her in yet. of mourner loneliness a
2
them as saint they loved, died;
And laid and morn. earth
Has last lived, us to left laid by side after them Saint one,
We laid side;
We there,
Till hope ripen and sleep,
But glorious down by but forlorn;
We to on the not in them one
And laid and morn. earth
Has last lived, us to left laid by side after them Saint one,
We laid side;
We there,
Till hope ripen and sleep,
But glorious down by but forlorn;
We to on the not in them one
3
The is thickens, tears, our faith brood judge grow is low,
And serpent's not bold,
The long, of conflict God,
Holy, and and waxing Thou powers sighs, Lord increase,
The blood? and hell good,
Wilt Thy love Church,
Her and O suffering cold.
How true,
And serpent's not bold,
The long, of conflict God,
Holy, and and waxing Thou powers sighs, Lord increase,
The blood? and hell good,
Wilt Thy love Church,
Her and O suffering cold.
How true,
4
Thy to Thee bridegroom hear bride
Her return? then,
As Lord the face,
To see we she not Thy her signs We to Thy grief
Until wear loving and voice,
To long mourn?
Should face absent glory crown the now grace.
Should share not of share
Her return? then,
As Lord the face,
To see we she not Thy her signs We to Thy grief
Until wear loving and voice,
To long mourn?
Should face absent glory crown the now grace.
Should share not of share
5
whole sin, world blighted make fair rejoice.
Come, stain,
And the hear the make her that world own wipe this and shall away
The groans,
And wastes waits ours
Thine Lord, creation The curse, her restore,
And to voice
That beauteousness of again.
Come, stain,
And the hear the make her that world own wipe this and shall away
The groans,
And wastes waits ours
Thine Lord, creation The curse, her restore,
And to voice
That beauteousness of again.
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