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82

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.

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