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Seven vials hold Thy wrath: but what can hold Thy mercy save Thine own Infinitude Boundlessly overflowing with all good, All lovingkindness, all delights untold? Thy Love, of each created love the mould; Thyself, of all the empty plenitude; Heard of at Ephrata, found in the Wood, For ever One, the Same, and Manifold. Lord, give us grace to tremble with that dove Which Ark - bound winged its solitary way And over past the Deluge in a day, Whom Noah’s hand pulled in and comforted: For we who much more hang upon Thy Love Behold its shadow in the deed he did.
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