INDEX TO THE FIRST LINES.
A few more years shall roll, Alleluia, alleluia,
A little flock; So calls He thee,
All that I was,-my sin, my guilt,
And whence this weariness,.
Are there not voices strangely sweet,
Autumn has come at last,
Be brave, my brother,
Beyond the smiling and the weeping,
Blessed be God, our God,
Blessed night, when first that plain,
Brethren, arise,
Calm me, my God, and keep me calm,.
Cease, my soul, thy strayings,
Cling to the Crucified,.
Come, Lord, and tarry not,
Days come and go,
Desert lilies, desert lilies,
Do they still linger,-these slow- treading ages?.
Dust receive thy kindred,
.
.
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Everlasting praises,
Far down the ages now,
Far from his breezy home of cliff and billow,
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Father, thy Son hath died,
Fetch me the lightning from yon frowning cloud,
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