Mrs. Rebecca Weston Poem by Mary Weston Fordham
Mrs. Rebecca Weston
'For so He giveth His beloved sleep.'
She is not dead, but sleepeth;-
Ere long will the morning break,
When those we love who sleep in Him,
Shall from the dust awake.
She is not dead, but sleepeth;-
Soon, soon will the ransomed sing
O! grave, where is thy victory?
O! death, where is thy sting?
Tuesday, September 14, 2010
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