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From the same.

Thou, Lord, my power and wisdom art;

O, do not then reject my heart!

Thy clay that weeps, Thy dust I am

That calls; O, put me not to shame!

Thy glories, Lord, in all things shine,

Thine is the deed, the praise is Thine:

A feeble, helpless creature, I

Do at Thy pleasure live or die.

Art Thou all Justice?—shows Thy Word

Through every page an angry Lord?

Am I all tears?—Is this to live?

Is all my business here to grieve?

Fill not my life’s short hour with pain;

Or, O! contract the wretched span:

So shall I mount from sorrow free,

And find relief and heaven in Thee.

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