REFUGE OF SINNERS
“REFUGE OF SINNERS”
Though loathsome sin, usurping grace,
Should make my soul its dwelling place;
Though Satan, with his host of flame,
Combined to crush my spirit’s fame;
I’d look to heav’n—avaunt despair!
Because I have a Mother there.
Though man should couch foul slander’s dart
To pierce with death my wounded heart;
Though trusted friends, nay, all that’s dear
Should flee my sight—without a tear,
I’d waft on high an earnest prayer,
Because I have a Mother there.
Though the poor beggar’s staff be mine,
And all despise, I’ll not repine;
Though hunger writes upon my cheek
Its fatal mark, in Winter’s bleak;
For heaven’s sake all this I’ll bear,
Because I have a Mother there.
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