If there be some weaker one,
Give me strength to help him on;
If a blinder soul there be,
Let me guide him nearer Thee;
Make my mortal dreams come true
With the work I fain would do;
Cloth with life the weak intent,
Let me be the thing I meant;
Le me find in Thy employ,
Peace that dearer is than joy;
Out of self to love be led,
And to heaven acclimated
Until all things sweet and good
Seem my natural habitude.
John Greeleaf Whittier
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