On the Death of a Brother
Oh ! could I fly from every Eye,
Where I could vent my Grief;
I think unto my troubled Soul
It would be some Relief.
Nothing but a Redeemer's Love
Have I to comfort me;
My God, he can do nothing wrong,
And I resign'd should be.
Where I could vent my Grief;
I think unto my troubled Soul
It would be some Relief.
Nothing but a Redeemer's Love
Have I to comfort me;
My God, he can do nothing wrong,
And I resign'd should be.
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