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THE MOTHER'S LAMENT.
117
This fond bosom loved him, ah! loved him too dearly,
And the frail idol fell, while I bent to adore;
All its beauty has faded, and broken before me
Is the god my heart ventured to worship before.

'Tis just, and I bow 'neath the mandate of Heaven;
Thy will, O my Father, forever be done!
Bless God, O my soul, for the chastisement given,
Henceforth will I worship my Saviour alone!