Thee, God, I come from, to thee go,  
All day long I like fountain flow  
From thy hand out, swayed about  
Mote-like in thy mighty glow.  
 
What I know of thee I bless,
As acknowledging thy stress  
On my being and as seeing  
Something of thy holiness.  
 
Once I turned from thee and hid,  
Bound on what thou hadst forbid;
Sow the wind I would; I sinned:  
I repent of what I did.  
 
Bad I am, but yet thy child.  
Father, be thou reconciled.  
Spare thou me, since I see
With thy might that thou art mild.  
 
I have life before me still  
And thy purpose to fulfil;  
Yea a debt to pay thee yet:  
Help me, sir, and so I will.
 
But thou bidst, and just thou art,  
Me shew mercy from my heart  
Towards my brother, every other  
Man my mate and counterpart.
  .   .   .   .   .   .   .   .
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