Subject: rise, never more to decay: Then I,

From: Daher Stakoe <[email-masked]>
Date: Wed, 15 Sep 2010 08:31:17 +0200

Low, Is termed in Emanuel's song The fount

for uncleanness and woe. Immerged in that precious tide, The soul
quickly loses its

stains, Though deeper than crimson they're dyed, And 'scapes
from its sorrows and pains. This fountain is opened for you: Go,
wash, without money or price; And instantly formed anew, You'll lose
all your woes in a trice. Then cease,
foolish heart, to repine, No stage is exempted from care; If you
would true happiness
find, 'Tis on Calvary--se