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Caring for the Church
I hear the voice of my dear,
He is drawing very near;
Louder the sound as He speaks,
Sprinting over mountain peaks.
Racing over hills and dales,
Like a ship spreading its sails;
Looking just like a young stag,
Flying the victory flag.
But places hide in the rocks,
Where is living the sly fox;
And sneaks out during the night,
Stealing grapes before daylight.
Catch the fox that is wrecking,
The vineyard which is breaking;
For the vines are in full bloom,
And he causes the grapes doom.
I am His and He is mine,
My beloved is so Divine;
The One that grazes the flock,
Amongst lilies where we walk.
Soon a day with cooling breeze,
And I will feel more at ease;
When the fox has gone and quit,
And thrown in the burning pit.
Copyright © 2010 Richard Newton Sherrer
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Caring for the Church
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