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Show "THE WIND" Nigh forty days and forty nights This wind's blown, scarce abated; It's ripped and tore with wild furor, It's vengeance seems unsated. For forty nights and forty days It's scoured and cut with gritty sand; All living, moving things bow low While still it rages 'cross the land. Has He, who watches from on high, Forgotten flowers and birds and trees? Forgive us for our sins, Oh Lord, And give us just .a gentle breeze. By Frank D. Lemon, Moab g. jassr i t. ' i - v. - - -. -. -. -. -. - - - |