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Fugitive Poetry. 1600–1878/In Fetteresso Churchyard ("Pain was my portion…")

From Wikisource
IN FETTERESSO CHURCHYARD.
Pain was my portion,Physic was my food;Sighs were my devotion;Drugs did me no good: Till Christ my Redeemer,Who knows what is best;To ease me of my pain,Has taken me to my rest.