George Crabbe

Come, now again, thy woes impart,
Tell all thy sorrows, all thy sin;
We cannot heal the read more

Come, now again, thy woes impart,
Tell all thy sorrows, all thy sin;
We cannot heal the throbbing heart
Will we discern the wounds within.

"What is a church?" Let Truth and reason speak,
They would reply, "The faithful, pure and meek,
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"What is a church?" Let Truth and reason speak,
They would reply, "The faithful, pure and meek,
From Christian folds, the one selected race,
Of all professions, and in every place."

Cut and come again.

Cut and come again.

Oh! 'tis a precious thing, when wives are dead,
To find such numbers who will serve instead:
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Oh! 'tis a precious thing, when wives are dead,
To find such numbers who will serve instead:
And in whatever state a man be thrown,
'Tis that precisely they would wish their own.

But 'twas a maxim he had often tried,
That right was right, and there he would abide.

But 'twas a maxim he had often tried,
That right was right, and there he would abide.