SONGS OF THE SOUL
Now, in the little cup he’ll see
The unsounded deep of eternity;
For ageless hours and endless days
The ambrosial drink he'll taste and praise.
The unsounded deep of eternity;
For ageless hours and endless days
The ambrosial drink he'll taste and praise.
The deathly thirst so fleshly born
Ne’er shall parch his soul again;
The cup he’ll drink, but not the bane,
To quench his thirst, and bliss attain.
And vain would mighty north winds try
Compassion’s gathered tears to dry.
Ne’er shall parch his soul again;
The cup he’ll drink, but not the bane,
To quench his thirst, and bliss attain.
And vain would mighty north winds try
Compassion’s gathered tears to dry.
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