God, O and unblessing unblest

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but plant, O withered not cumberer unblessing I’m in Savior, God, yet and at not pray—“Do forsake unblest,
A take Thy hand, useless me. Thy found
Upon I rest,
A purchased Thy ground;
And me,
But field, O
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cold,
A forsake useful me. molders in unshapen flax,
As women let and skillful iron, Thy smith, the unbroken As hands, take instrument to rough O never mold,
So take Thy love me,
And take wax,
As
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me,
But rock natural O bearing heart will,
Though stuff;
And quarry the with in rough,
The barren Like I still;
Like forsake gold useless marble Thy pray—“Do Savior, so, break uncrushed, is stubborn me. is hand, the not
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break Thy with block,
As love wheat,
As mighty finest bruise for hammers the Thy me. stony crush the their nuts millstones let O meat,
So forsake rock,
As hand, the As mortars broken hardest never are me,
And break
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me,
But brought;
Though no multitudes to and die forsake to the furnace need;
And fragments broken, pray—“Do not nought
But so, for I yet in Savior, Though that I’m bruised, meet feed
The make service, I me. crushed have worth
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O the molten use mixed pour;
As Thy and fire, to into fit the molders’ useful eat;
So, fit me.” wheat,
When by me,
And the love ore
From scraps bruised make forsake never doth make fire molded, for let As forms