Immanuel died to save,
And he designs rich fruit shall spring
From that lone martyr’s grave.
1854. E. P. G.
ALL ALONE.
Alas! they have left me all alone
By the receding tide;
But oh! the countless multitudes
Upon the other side!
Immanuel died to save,
And he designs rich fruit shall spring
From that lone martyr’s grave.
1854. E. P. G.
Alas! they have left me all alone
By the receding tide;
But oh! the countless multitudes
Upon the other side!