The Pilgrims' Cross
Away with our sorrow left to abide...
The pain tomorrow never glide.
Our fate lies hollow forever stricken;
Our faith but a shallow bears a shaken.
We hoped on the rain that broke our haven;
anticipation in strain dead to awaken.
Our worries still linger never to fade;
our minds to ponder, memories to bade.
Our plea for hope bore tears we bled;
but off they slope like a tree in its shed...
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