* * * Thee, God, I come from, to thee go, All day long I like fountain flow From thy hand out, swayed about Mote-like in thy mighty glow. What I know of thee I bless, As acknowledging thy stress On my being and as seeing Something of thy holiness. Once I turned from thee and hid, Bound on what thou hadst forbid; Sow the wind I would; I sinned: I repent of what I did. Bad I am, but yet thy child. Father, be thou reconciled. Spare thou me, since I see With thy might that thou art mild. I have life before me still And thy purpose to fulfil; Yea a debt to pay thee yet: Help me, sir, and so I will. But thou bidst, and just thou art, Me shew mercy from my heart Towards my brother, every other Man my mate and counterpart. |
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