I shall carelessly leave this impersonal thought to age here, with love.
Where can she rest?
Promises, promises watr'y-sleek,
Trickle the course of dried-up creek,
For sinful man doth not know,
That yes means yes, and no means -
No! Mama, sell not, your flesh for grain
Know not, His blood washed crimson stain?
Enamour'd gold means love of pain,
Know not, your gift is life again?
Forget Papa - sin will not know,
That yes means yes and no means -
No.
Alas, where slept Ma's gold'n head?
She laid it, wroth, on men abed.
So, where could rest her gold'n lamb?
Ran,
she ran,
to Him - I Am -
Gently laying
in His plan,
to be, embrac'd,
by Son of Man.
Where can she rest?
Promises, promises watr'y-sleek,
Trickle the course of dried-up creek,
For sinful man doth not know,
That yes means yes, and no means -
No! Mama, sell not, your flesh for grain
Know not, His blood washed crimson stain?
Enamour'd gold means love of pain,
Know not, your gift is life again?
Forget Papa - sin will not know,
That yes means yes and no means -
No.
Alas, where slept Ma's gold'n head?
She laid it, wroth, on men abed.
So, where could rest her gold'n lamb?
Ran,
she ran,
to Him - I Am -
Gently laying
in His plan,
to be, embrac'd,
by Son of Man.
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