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A Song

 Lord, when the sense of thy sweet grace
Sends up my soul to seek thy face.
Thy blessed eyes breed such desire, I dy in love’s delicious Fire.
O love, I am thy Sacrifice.
Be still triumphant, blessed eyes.
Still shine on me, fair suns! that I Still may behold, though still I dy.
Though still I dy, I live again; Still longing so to be still slain, So gainfull is such losse of breath.
I dy even in desire of death.
Still live in me this loving strife Of living Death and dying Life.
For while thou sweetly slayest me Dead to my selfe, I live in Thee.

by Laurence Binyon
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