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TIS Sabbath morn, and a holy balm | |
Drops down on the heart like dew, | |
And the sunbeams gleam like a blessèd dream, | |
Afar on the mountains blue. | |
Old Hannah s by her cottage door | 5 |
In her faded widows cap; | |
She is sitting alone on the old grey stone, | |
With the Bible in her lap. | |
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An oak is hanging above her head, | |
And the burn is wimpling by; | 10 |
The primroses peep from their sylvan keep, | |
And the lark is in the sky. | |
Beneath that shade her children played, | |
But theyre all away with Death, | |
And she sits alone on the old grey stone | 15 |
To hear what the Spirit saith. | |
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Her years are past three score and ten, | |
And her eyes are waxing dim, | |
But the page is bright with a living light, | |
And her heart leaps up to Him | 20 |
Who pours the mystic Harmony | |
Which the soul alone can hear! | |
She is not alone on the old grey stone, | |
Though no earthly friend is near. | |
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There s no one left to love her now; | 25 |
But the Eye that never sleeps | |
Looks on her in love from the heavens above, | |
And with quiet joy she weeps. | |
For she feels the balm of bliss is poured | |
In her lone hearts sorest spot: | 30 |
The widow lone on the old grey stone | |
Has a peace the world knows not. | |
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