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BANISH'D the House of sacred rest, Amid a thoughtless throng, At length I heard its creed confess'd, And knelt the saints among.
Artless his strain and unadorn'd, Who spoke Christ's message there; But what at home I might have scorn'd, Now charm'd my famish'd ear.
Lord, grant me this abiding grace, Thy Word and sons to know; To pierce the veil on Moses' face, Although his speech be slow.
John Henry Newman, Cardinal
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Read poems about / on: house, home, son
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