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When morning surrenders, I’m there again,

Calling and bawling, I pour my pain!

Before the sun, I rise and complain,

Cries in my eyes, gall in my vein!


But I abide where strings play a song,

I tarry in labour as I’m moving along.

I’m not strong, yet till mercy responds,

I collide with a virtue that bonds.


Tears as flood at heaven’s door,

Till it rains, mercy drill my shore

I wait the more, committed in praise,

Touched to the core, I lament for my days!


Still hope abides and alights and awakes,

He pampers wounds and comforts aches.

Yet I bawl when I pain,

And I’m at His mercy seat again!

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