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C. M.
In the winds.
Isaiah 27:8.
Doddridge.
Great Ruler of all nature’s frame, We own thy power divine; We hear thy breath in every storm For all the winds are thine. | 2 Wide as they sweep their sounding way, They work thy sovereign will; And, awed by the majestic voice, Confusion shall be still. | 3 Thy mercy tempers every blast To them that seek thy face, And mingles with the tempest’s roar, The whispers of thy grace. | 4 Those gentle whispers let me hear, Till all the tumult cease; And gales of paradise shall lull My weary soul to peace. | |