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55
Friday Morning
There, where the ready Sun sublimely soaring
Gives life & beauty to the waking song scene
There where the pale light from the orient pouring
Sheds its soft influence o'er the deep serene.
There when the Cedars overhang the mountain.
And the pact ages and sleeping neath you million memories sleep beneath the sod;
Where palms of peace are waving o'er the fountain
The man of sorrows gave himself to God.
The heaven was veil'd in clouds, – affrighted nature
Trembled, – the Sin wat relived – & earth was still'd
With a dreadful silence – every living creature
Shock – & the great salvation was fulfill'd.
Malice has done its worst – & disappointed
It sees him trampling The very grave must yield its mighty spoil
Why hurl thy bolts against the heavens annointed
That bolt with dreadful vengeance shall recoil
Identifier: | JB/110/246/001 "JB/" can not be assigned to a declared number type with value 110.
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110 |
of laws in general |
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246 |
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001 |
friday morning |
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collectanea |
4 |
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recto |
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sir john bowring |
[[watermarks::[partial motif] <…>19]] |
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1819 |
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36236 |
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