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From the same.

Lord, I confess my sin is great

Great is my sin O, gently treat

Thy tender flower, Thy fading bloom,

Whose life’s still aiming at a tomb.

Have mercy, Lord! Lo, I confess,

I feel, I mourn my foolishness.

O, spare me, whom Thy hands have made,

A withering leaf, a fleeting shade.

Sweeten at length this bitter bowl

Which Thou hast pour’d into my soul!

O, tarry not! If still Thou stay,

Here sets in death my short-lived day.

When Thou for sin rebukest man,

His drooping heart is fill’d with pain;

Blasted his strength, his beauty too

Consumes away as morning dew.

When wilt Thou sin and grief destroy,

That all the broken bones may joy;

And at Thy all-reviving word

Dead sinners rise, and praise the Lord?

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