Neither Time Nor Death

The hands of Time by haste sped,
Shan't rejoice over me when I'm dead:
When I, by eternal triumphant stride
Shall spend life unending on God's side.

The sting of death though hurtful,
Shan't render me to torment so painful:
When I, in the embrace of the Father
Shall have my tent there pitched forever.
Copyright © | Year Posted 2016

Poem

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