Jesus, refuge of the weary, blest Redeemer, whom we love, fountain in life's desert dreary, Savior from the world above, often have your eyes, offended, gazed upon the sinner's fall; yet, upon the cross extended, you endured the pain of all.
The household wanes, Vil threw a death wave over those the oar locks wore out for, with the tired mast-top Who brought... Who brought the horde over to the far country?
My one-and-a-half-year-old daughter Leaves holding my finger And runs away to catch a butterfly Fluttering in the yard – The butterfly keeps on flying around And she keeps on following it.
Is it my mind or my heart that I’ve lost to you, Arab lands, home of enemies? If you held our minds with law and reason if you respected our opinions then you’d hold my heart as well