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Show j jf """I HARP were the thorns on my Saviour's brow, I ""N Forked and crimson-Stained, Wl r ' And till the last sharp breath was drawn, jr W . They remained. J I I Out of great suffering one cried I J Thrice to be rid of a thorn, iMs KiSjgC But from that long unanswered prayer, f I I Strength was born. M Who am I to be bitter now it Over a bitter thing: ly I am ne'tier evangelist, P II Let it depart from me, O God, W Lighten my path, my days, ' S J f But may Thy grace, Thy Strength be mine, WWK " If it Stays k 1B GRACE N0LL CR0WELL |