SURSUM CORDA
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eek not the spirit, if it hideInexorable to thy zeal:Trembler, do not whine and chide:Art thou not also real?Stoop not then to poor excuse;Turn on the accuser roundly; say,'Here am I, here will I abideForever to myself soothfast;Go thou, sweet Heaven, or at thy pleasure stay!'Already Heaven with thee its lot has cast,For only it can absolutely deal.
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