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If Providence, to try my heart,
Afflictions should prepare,
To God submissive may I bend,
And keep me from despair.
Whate’er he orders must by just;
Then let me kiss the rod,
Nor, poorly sunk, at all distrust
The goodness of my God.
The mind to which I owe my own,
To guide this mind is wise;
And he, to whom my faults are known
The fittest to chastise.
Then, till life’s latest sands are run
O teach me, Power Divine,
Still to reply, thy will be done,
Whate’er becomes of mine.
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marker 99
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LYRICS
Meter:
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8 6 8 6 (C.M.)
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Writer(s):
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Trans/Adapted:
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Dates:
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Bible Refs:
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LIST OF LYRIC SOURCES
Hymn/Song Book
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Year
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Song #
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| 1851 | # 148 |
echo ' | ';
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