Hail, happy saint, on thine immortal throne,
Possest of glory, life, and bliss unknown:
We hear no more the music of thy tongue,
Thy wonted auditories cease to throng.
On the Death of the Reverend Mr. George Whitfield. 1770
Hail, happy saint, on thine immortal throne,
Possest of glory, life, and bliss unknown:
We hear no more the music of thy tongue,
Thy wonted auditories cease to throng.
On the Death of the Reverend Mr. George Whitfield. 1770
