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S. M.


Seeking Rest.

O, where shall rest be found,

Rest for the weary soul?

’Twere vain the ocean depths to sound,

Or pierce to either pole:

The world can never give

The rest for which we sigh;

’Tis not the whole of life to live,

Nor all of death to die.

In Thee we end our quest;

Alone are found in Thee

The life of perfect love,—the rest

Of immortality.

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