All That Suffers

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All that suffers
In such a time.
There’s left to us no buffer,
Where we are confined.
He that hungers,
One denies,
Is of the never slumbers,
And the pain in which he cries.
We’re to hold
Those since disowned.
Our hearts to keep them from the cold,
Our arms to keep them, believe them,
All that suffers is not home.

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