THE LONG LAST MILE
L'arry me over the long last aiile, Man oi Nazareth, Christ tor me, Weary 1 wait at death's dark stile. In the wild and the waste where the wind blows. free And the shadows and sorrows come out of my past, hook c)lean tlirough iiny heart, and will not depart Now thut -my poor world has come to its last. Lord, js it ioug that my spirit lnust ' wait p Man of Nazareth, Christ for me. Deep is the stream and the i ight is late i And grief biinds my soul that i cannot see. Speak to uie out of the silence, Lord, l'hat my spirit uiay know, as for ward I g", That Thy pierced hands are liftiug me over the fofd. ~Lachlan Maclean Watt.
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https://paperspast.natlib.govt.nz/newspapers/HBHETR19371030.2.96.4
Bibliographic details
Hawke's Bay Herald-Tribune, Volume 81, Issue 31, 30 October 1937, Page 12
Word Count
131THE LONG LAST MILE Hawke's Bay Herald-Tribune, Volume 81, Issue 31, 30 October 1937, Page 12
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