Anne Bradstreet (Анна Брэдстрит)
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My thankfull heart with glorying Tongue Shall celebrate thy Name, Who hath restor'd, redeem'd, recur'd From sicknes, death, and Pain. I cry'd thov seem'st to make some stay, I sovght more earnestly; And in due time thou succóur'st me, And sent'st me help from High. Lord, whilst my fleeting time shall last, Thy Goodnes let me Tell. And new Experience I haue gain'd, My future Doubts repell. An humble, faitefull life, O Lord, For ever let me walk; Let my obedience testefye, My Praise lyes not in Talk. Accept, O Lord, my simple mite, For more I cannot giue; What thou bestow'st I shall restore, For of thine Almes I liue.
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