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Hymn 130

 Love and hatred.
Phil.
2:2; Eph.
4:30,etc.
Now by the bowels of my God, His sharp distress, his sore complaints, By his last groans, his dying blood, I charge my soul to love the saints.
Clamor, and wrath, and war, begone, Envy and spite, for ever cease; Let bitter words no more be known Amongst the saints, the sons of peace.
The Spirit, like a peaceful dove, Flies from the realms of noise and strife: Why should we vex and grieve his love Who seals our souls to heav'nly life? Tender and kind be all our thoughts, Through all our lives let mercy run; So God forgives our num'rous faults, For the dear sake of Christ his Son.

by Isaac Watts
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