Jan 8, 2011

FROM THE HANDS OF CHRIST




 Let me drink to my fill
 From the hands of Christ.
 Who knows if it’s my last cup?
 Let me drink without fright.

 From the time present
 Much grieves I have got.
 Let me weep bitterly
 So that all my worry be lost.

 Let me sleep with eyes open
 Lest I’m cheated further by dreams.
 Let my soul fill with knowledge divine
 Again I’ll fight with the atheists.








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