* * * Father of love, to thee I bend My heart, and lift mine eyes; O let my pray'r and praise ascend As odours to the skies. Thy pard'ning voice I come to hear, To know thee as thou art: Thy ministers can reach the ear, But thou must touch the heart. O stamp me in thy heav'nly mould, And grant thy word appl'd May bring forth fruit an hundred fold And speak me justify'd. |
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