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Death

Old age, old age, why don't you care?

For the gentle old man in the rocking chair?

You come in a night, and with a deathly hand,

Take up life's timer and tip out the sand.

Once in his prime, now frail and old

Death will take over, deadly and cold.

And with him will die memories and dreams without number

Captured forever in unearthly slumber.

But Death has no sting for the soul who is blest,

With glorious Salvation free.

And now unrequited- that soul shall have rest

Christ won the victory.