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From the same.

Thou, who hast given so much to me,

O, give a grateful heart:

See how Thy beggar works on Thee

By acceptable art!

He makes Thy gifts occasion more;

And says, if here he’s crost,

All Thou hast given him heretofore,

Thyself and all, is lost.

But Thou didst reckon, when at first

Our wants Thy aid did crave,

What it would come to at the worst

Such needy worms to save.

Perpetual knockings at Thy door,

Tears sullying all Thy rooms;

Gift upon gift; much would have more,

And still Thy suppliant comes.

Yet Thy unwearied love went on;

Allow’d us all our noise;

Nay, Thou hast dignified a groan,

And made a sigh Thy joys.

Wherefore I cry, and cry again,

Nor canst Thou quiet be,

Till my repeated suit obtain

A thankful heart from Thee.

Hear then, and thankfulness impart

Continual as Thy grace;

O, add to all Thy gifts a heart

Whose pulse may be Thy praise!

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