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DEATH |
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2 A few more storms shall beat On this wild rocky shore,
And we shall be where tempests cease, And surges swell no more: Then, O my Lord, prepare My soul for that great day;
O wash me in Thy precious blood, And take my sins away. |
3 A few more struggles here,
A few more partings o'er, A few more toils, a few more tears,
And we shall weep no more: Then, O my Lord, prepare
My soul for that blest day; O wash me in Thy precious blood,
And take my sins away. |
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