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Let others of thy vigour speak,
From death and danger far;
We own, O Lord, that we are weak,
And ask thy gracious care.
Fresh as the grass our bodies stand,
And flourish bright and gay;
A blasting wind sweeps o’er the land,
And fades the grass away.
Our frame contains a thousand springs,
And fails if one be wrong;
Strange that a harp a thousand strings,
Should keep in tune so long!
But ‘tis our God supports our frame,
Who raised us from the dust;
All praise to the Almighty name,
In him is all our trust.
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marker 99
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LIST OF LYRIC SOURCES
Hymn/Song Book
|
Year
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Song #
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| 1853 | # 300 |
echo ' | ';
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