Let them bestow on ev'ry airth a limb;
Open all my veins, that I may swim
To Thee, my Saviour, in that crimson lake;
Then place my parboil'd head upon a stake,
Scatter my ashes, throw them in the air:
Lord (since Thou know'st where all these atoms are)
I'm hopeful once Thou'lt recollect my dust,
And confident thou'lt raise me with the just.
On Himself, Upon Hearing What Was His Sentence
James Graham
(1)
Poem topics: head, raise, place, confident, dust, open, swim, crimson, bestow, Print This Poem , Rhyme Scheme
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