| The great grandfather, with his pious beard
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| Bathed in the river, all his years
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| Many books, that lined his walls
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| Jews and gentiles, held him in awe
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| Nathan stepped through the broken window
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| And looked to the river where his mother once floated
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| Nathan stepped through the broken window
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| And looked to the river where his mother once floated
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| He had four sons, all healthy and proper
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| One was converted, became a christian doctor
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| His daughter filled with typhus and succumbed
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| He grew quiet his wife fell dumb
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| Nathan stepped through the broken window
|
| And looked to the river where his mother once floated
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| Nathan stepped through the broken window
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| And looked to the river where his mother once floated
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| His granddaughter recalled, the day he died
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| She was six years old, frosted with fright
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| She clutched the toe, the stiff cold toe
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| And renounced the wrongs only she could know
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| Nathan stepped through the broken window
|
| And looked to the river where his mother once floated
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| Nathan stepped through the broken window
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| And looked to the river where his mother once floated |