Lonely Cottage

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  “Among the few features of agricultural England which retain an appearance but little modified by the lapse of centuries, may be reckoned the high, grassy and furzy downs, coombs, or ewe-leases, as they are indifferently called, that fill a large area of certain counties in the south and south-west. If any mark of human occupation is met with hereon, it usually takes the form of the solitary cottage of some shepherd. Fifty years ago such a lonely cottage stood on such a down, and may possibly be standing there now. In spite of its loneliness, however, the spot, by actual measurement, was not more than five miles from a county-town. Yet that affected it little. Five miles of irregular upland, during the long inimical seasons, with their sleets, snows, rains, and mists, afford withdrawing space enough to isolate a Timon or a Nebuchadnezzar; much less, in fair weather, to please that less repellent tribe, the poets, philosophers, artists, and others who “conceive and meditate of ple...

Confession

To whom may I recount my sins,
with all their pains and woe?
And where shall my detail begin;
And who can stand to know?

My wicked tales in someone's ear--
how can I stain their head?
So how to tell and cast my fear
of sinful guilt and dread?

My own life cannot bear the load
of all that I have done!
How can I take you down my road?
There is none, save but One.

Confession gives the soul all good,
so who should stoop to hear?
'Tis Jesus Christ (thank God alone),
He all my life can bear.

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