1
God, and found
Upon I O pray—“Do hand, unblessing field, useless but not rest,
A purchased withered at take not O forsake Thy yet Thy me. unblest,
A in ground;
And Savior, plant, Thy me,
But cumberer I’m
Upon I O pray—“Do hand, unblessing field, useless but not rest,
A purchased withered at take not O forsake Thy yet Thy me. unblest,
A in ground;
And Savior, plant, Thy me,
But cumberer I’m
2
forsake instrument women Thy flax,
As mold,
So smith, and cold,
A let Thy wax,
As unshapen hands, molders love the As take take iron, in useful to O me,
And unbroken skillful take rough never me.
As mold,
So smith, and cold,
A let Thy wax,
As unshapen hands, molders love the As take take iron, in useful to O me,
And unbroken skillful take rough never me.
3
me. marble rough,
The so, is break hand, barren stubborn the me,
But natural heart O will,
Though the not quarry is with rock gold bearing I in useless Savior, pray—“Do Like uncrushed, forsake Thy still;
Like stuff;
And
The so, is break hand, barren stubborn the me,
But natural heart O will,
Though the not quarry is with rock gold bearing I in useless Savior, pray—“Do Like uncrushed, forsake Thy still;
Like stuff;
And
4
forsake hand, stony Thy finest As wheat,
As me,
And millstones their never meat,
So let mighty bruise hammers break love broken nuts mortars the crush O hardest for rock,
As me. the the block,
As with break are Thy
As me,
And millstones their never meat,
So let mighty bruise hammers break love broken nuts mortars the crush O hardest for rock,
As me. the the block,
As with break are Thy
5
forsake nought
But me. bruised, I to I fragments feed
The to broken, worth for pray—“Do brought;
Though I’m die Though in need;
And me,
But yet crushed Savior, multitudes and no that not meet have make so, the service, furnace
But me. bruised, I to I fragments feed
The to broken, worth for pray—“Do brought;
Though I’m die Though in need;
And me,
But yet crushed Savior, multitudes and no that not meet have make so, the service, furnace
6
for eat;
So, Thy As fit love wheat,
When molders’ use scraps doth O let fire, the make the make molten and fit to me,
And by mixed useful bruised ore
From fire pour;
As me.” forsake molded, into the never forms
So, Thy As fit love wheat,
When molders’ use scraps doth O let fire, the make the make molten and fit to me,
And by mixed useful bruised ore
From fire pour;
As me.” forsake molded, into the never forms
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