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Marble’s for coldest statues; tears for mortal eyes:
Sampson with his longest locks still was known to cry.
Seraphim and Cherubim in their mighty ranks,
Perform His deeds with glad hearts; ne’er a drop of angst.

Mortal Christian soldiers, not privy to His plan,
Battle with heavy hearts; such is the plight of man.
Heaven’s angelic hosts, forever in the know,
Need mourn not for comrades they see felled by death’s blow.

So we of flesh and blood stupefied by great loss,
Left to go on living and tally up the cost,
Crumble with burden that should not be borne by men:
Living life’s sentence till His children meet again.