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There is a balm for every pain,
A medicine for all sorrow;
The eye turned backward to the Cross,
And forward to the morrow.
The morrow of the glory and the psalm,
When He shall come;
The morrow of the harping and the palm,
The welcome home.
Meantime in His beloved hands our ways,
And on His Heart the wandering heart at rest;
And comfort for the weary one who lays
His head upon His Breast.
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marker 99
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LYRICS
Meter:
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.
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Writer(s):
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Trans/Adapted:
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Dates:
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1898
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Bible Refs:
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Is 35:10;
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echo ' | ';
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