Sweet Comfort – A Poem for the Weeks of Nechama

O tempest tossed and ever unconsoled! O exiled lamb, restless, wandering sheep, Crushed in lands of nations wicked and bold, And sitting alone there – how bitter, your weep! O arise! arise! dry each tear soaked cheek And don holy clothes of splendid glory! Behold!… | Read More in The Blogs

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