Nor lift a sigh to heaven,
To me, dear Lord, oh may there be
A praying spirit given.
Since each revolving sun
Brings with it loads of care,
let not a single day be spent,
Without returns of prayer.
And if I’m called to wait,
Through many a cloudy day,
A glimpse, though on a dying bed,
Will all my pains repay.
Benjamin Beddome 1717 - 1795 ( 77 Years )
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