Brat Farrar (bratfarrar) wrote,
Brat Farrar
bratfarrar

Macedonia


Not from the dust afflictions grow,
Nor troubles rise by chance;
Yet we are born to cares and woe;
A sad inheritance!

As sparks break out from burning coals,
And still are upward borne,
So grief is rooted in our souls,
And man grows up to mourn.

Yet with my God I leave my cause,
And trust his promised grace;
He rules me by his well-known laws
Of love and righteousness.
Tags: hymnary
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Posts from This Journal “hymnary” Tag

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    Welcome, happy morning!" age to age shall say: hell today is vanquished; heav'n is won today. Lo! the Dead is living, God forevermore!…

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    Thine be the glory, risen, conqu'ring Son; endless is the vict'ry Thou o’er death hast won. Angels in bright raiment rolled the stone…

  • Good Friday

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