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With pale and hollow eyes?
1 Shall they thy loving kindness tell
On whom the grave hath hold,
Or they who in perdition dwell
Thy faithfulness unfold?
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2 In darkness can thy mighty hand
Or wondrous acts be known,
Thy justice in the gloomy land
Of dark oblivion?
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3 But I to thee O Lord do cry
E're yet my life be spent,
And up to thee my praier doth hie
Each morn, and thee prevent.
4 Why wilt thou Lord my soul forsake,
And hide thy face from me,
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5 That am already bruis'd, and *shake
*Heb. Prae Concussione.
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With terror sent from thee;
Bruz'd, and afflicted and so low
As ready to expire,
While I thy terrors undergo
Astonish'd with thine ire.
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6 Thy fierce wrath over me doth flow
Thy threatnings cut me through.
7 All day they round about me go,
Like waves they me persue.
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