Erik Estabrook Biography

Let it not be taken solemnly, the traps and tragedies of this world,
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Lend me your passenger ear, for the lonesome clouds are louder here,
Take the forsaken signs of loves vast pool,
And let me know that the cross is in you,
Take my hollow-tree-trunk-eyes for once shape them to make gestures that match my mind,
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May your compass point north and your light true
Keep the cross, his blood as a saving grace
Then the Lord, your spirit he'll renew
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