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The Lord Is King The Lord is King, and weareth A robe of glory bright: He clothed with strength appeareth, And girt with powerful might. The earth He hath so grounded That moved it cannot be; His throne long since was founded, More old than time is He. The waters highly flowed, And raised their voice, O Lord; The seas their fury showed, And loud their billows roar'd. But God in strength excelleth Strong seas and powerful deeps; With Him all pureness dwelleth, And firm His truth He keeps. George Wither's other poems:
Распечатать (Print) Количество обращений к стихотворению: 1226 |
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