Ruth
Ruth.
Though your morsel now a tear
And your apparel now a wear,
Behold I shall not let go;
I shall not forsake you my goal.
I shall not desert my dear,
Though your morsel now a tear,
The oak was great,you’re my glory;
The oak now ash, you’re my story.
Sad the storm drenches you in cold,
I must hence with all me you hold;
Though your morsel now a tear,
The stress and labour for my rear.
No I shall not ,I shall not let go,
I shall hold you tight my goal;
I shall hold you with fanfare,
Though your morsel now a tear.
Contest : Ruth.
Sponsor : Isaiah Zerbst.
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