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Poem by Charlotte Elliott * * * O Holy Saviour, Friend unseen, Since on Thine arm Thou bid'st us lean, Help us throughout life's changing scene By faith to cling to Thee. When far from home, fatigued, oppressed, In Thee we found our place of rest; As exiles still, yet richly blest, We cling, O Lord, to Thee. What though the world deceitful prove, And earthly friends and hopes remove! With patient, uncomplaining love, Still would we cling to Thee. Though faith and hope are often tried, We ask not, need not, ought beside; So safe, so calm, so satisfied, The soul that clings to Thee. Blest is our lot, whate'er befall; What can disturb or who appal? Thou art our strength, our rock, our all, Saviour, we cling to Thee. Charlotte Elliott Charlotte Elliott's other poems:
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