There never t'was an angel so fair, forth coming comfort and lifting pity of despair
Thee sweet deliverance of days a morrow, hath lending liberation in thy harrow
Releasing the prick of thy thorn, cast myself a haste brewing thou scorn
Passing days I bethink bestowing, cease our moments ever so growing
Tis avail is my angels will, oblivious thy place in life till
Thou accompany no faith in romance, and bid thee safe fear in cold distance
A blessed path among her approbation, exile the wicked thoroughly upon isolation
She is the angel of my faithful passion
The angel I wont let go














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