Note: This text has been automatically extracted via Optical Character Recognition (OCR) software.
A Song,
A SONG ,
DEDICATED TO MY WIFE , AFTER SEVERE ILLNESS I . What torture tore my breaking heart , What anguish fill'd my eye , What grief was in my frantic start . What sorrow in my sigh ! For I had watch'd that waning face
, And sought for solace there ; But , ah ! no comfort could I trace—I only found despair . II . My hope was faint , but faith was strong , And silently implored ,
And Mercy gave me back , ere long , My Hetty—my adored ! Heard was my prayer , and heal'd my pain , By bounty from above ; And changed is now my wailing strain , To gratitude and love ! III .
Oh ! never till that dreadful hour , When terror shook my soul , Could I conceive thy burning power , Thy boundless—blest control ! Now every danger I can dare , And mock the scorn of men ; The worst of woes I can endure ,
For THOU art mine again ! TV . Oh ! cling for ever to my breast , My own—my faithful wife ; Thy presence only makes me blest ! Thy love alone is life !
My being is bound up in THEE . My own , my only dear ! Henceforth my ceaseless aim shall be , To prove that I ' m sincere . V . I ' 11 bless thee—when my failing breath
Shall faintly bid adieu ; I ' 11 love thee—even after death—Still tender and still true ! For then to regions calm and bright , Our spirits shall ascend ; And live and love in cloudless light , And joys that never end ! F . B . RIBBANS , G . S . D . for Warwickshire . VOL . VII . 3 p
Note: This text has been automatically extracted via Optical Character Recognition (OCR) software.
A Song,
A SONG ,
DEDICATED TO MY WIFE , AFTER SEVERE ILLNESS I . What torture tore my breaking heart , What anguish fill'd my eye , What grief was in my frantic start . What sorrow in my sigh ! For I had watch'd that waning face
, And sought for solace there ; But , ah ! no comfort could I trace—I only found despair . II . My hope was faint , but faith was strong , And silently implored ,
And Mercy gave me back , ere long , My Hetty—my adored ! Heard was my prayer , and heal'd my pain , By bounty from above ; And changed is now my wailing strain , To gratitude and love ! III .
Oh ! never till that dreadful hour , When terror shook my soul , Could I conceive thy burning power , Thy boundless—blest control ! Now every danger I can dare , And mock the scorn of men ; The worst of woes I can endure ,
For THOU art mine again ! TV . Oh ! cling for ever to my breast , My own—my faithful wife ; Thy presence only makes me blest ! Thy love alone is life !
My being is bound up in THEE . My own , my only dear ! Henceforth my ceaseless aim shall be , To prove that I ' m sincere . V . I ' 11 bless thee—when my failing breath
Shall faintly bid adieu ; I ' 11 love thee—even after death—Still tender and still true ! For then to regions calm and bright , Our spirits shall ascend ; And live and love in cloudless light , And joys that never end ! F . B . RIBBANS , G . S . D . for Warwickshire . VOL . VII . 3 p