October 27, 2015

From the honest pen of Isaac Watts

How long wilt Thou conceal Thy face?
        My God, how long delay?
    When shall I feel those heav’nly rays
        That chase my fears away?
    How long shall my poor laboring soul
        Wrestle and toil in vain?
    Thy word can all my foes control
        And ease my raging pain.

- Isaac Watts

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