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We the shy children

We are shy children
Why wish us ill then
When we sing our songs for pleasure?

We are God’s children
Who pays the bill then
while we play amongst the heather?

Whilst we’re still children
Will He explain then
What it is that we should treasure?

If it’s not love then,
Or heav’n above, when
we receive the farewell sermon,
will we remain then
singing and playing
amongst the decaying heather?

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