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