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If I forget thee, O Jerusalem, let my right hand forget her
cunning.
If I forget thee, O Jerusalem, let my right hand forget her
cunning.
One day I wrote her name upon the strand,
But came the waves and washed it away;
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One day I wrote her name upon the strand,
But came the waves and washed it away;
Agayne I wrote it with a second hand,
But came the tyde and made my paynes his prey.
We may with advantage forget what we know.
We may with advantage forget what we know.
It is sometimes expedient to forget who we are.
It is sometimes expedient to forget who we are.
To the sick man the physician when he enters seems to have three
faces, those of a man, a read more
To the sick man the physician when he enters seems to have three
faces, those of a man, a devil, a god. When the physician first
comes and announces the safety of the patient, then the sick man
says: "Behold a God or a guardian angel!"
[Lat., Intrantis medici facies tres esse videntur
Aegrotanti; hominis, Daemonis, atque Dei.
Cum primum accessit medicus dixitque salutem,
En Deus aut custos angelus, aeger ait.]
God of our fathers, known of old,
Lord of our far-flung battle-line,
Beneath whose awful Hand we read more
God of our fathers, known of old,
Lord of our far-flung battle-line,
Beneath whose awful Hand we hold
Dominion over palm and pine--
Lord God of Hosts, be with us yet,
Lest we forget--lest we forget!
And have you been to Borderland?
Its country lies on either hand
Beyond the river I-forget.
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And have you been to Borderland?
Its country lies on either hand
Beyond the river I-forget.
One crosses by a single stone
So narrow one must pass alone,
And all about its waters fret--
The laughing river I-forget.
The tumult and the shouting dies,
The captains and the kings depart;
Still stands thine ancient sacrifice,
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The tumult and the shouting dies,
The captains and the kings depart;
Still stands thine ancient sacrifice,
A humble and a contrite heart.
Lord God of Hosts, be with us yet
Lest we forget,--lest we forget.
Forgotten? No, we never do forget:
We let the years go; wash them clean with tears,
Leave read more
Forgotten? No, we never do forget:
We let the years go; wash them clean with tears,
Leave them to bleach out in the open day,
Or lock them careful by, like dead friends' clothes,
Till we shall dare unfold them without pain,--
But we forget not, never can forget.