Farmington by Jacob French — Lyrics

Jacob French English Sacred Staff notation

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1. Hence from my soul, my sins, depart; Your fatal friendship now I see; Long have you dwelt too near my heart; Hence, to eternal distance flee. 2. Ye gave my dying Lord his wound, Yet I caressed your viperous brood, And in my heartstrings lapped you round; You, the vile murderers of my God. 3. Black heavy thoughts, like mountains, roll O'er my poor breast with boding fears, And, crushing hard my tortured soul, Wring through my eyes the briny tears.

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Farmington

Farmington

By Jacob French
Staff
English
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