I believe you Holy Father.
I do trust you precious Lord.
I will labor and be faithful
In the sending of your word.
I will help to to lift the fallen,
Help to cheer the lone and sad,
Help to feed the tired and hungry,
Make some cheerless person glad.
But this won't buy my pardon
Won't redeem me from my sin
Won't me you great, God my (illegible)
The poem ends with no concluding line
By Vester Cooper
c 2008. Vester Cooper Trust. All rights reserved.
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