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THE GIFTS OF GOD. 143
Men spurned His grace; their lips blasphemed The Love who made Himself their slave;
They grieved that blessed Comforter, And turned against Him what He gave. |
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Yet still the sun is fair by day, The moon still beautiĀful by night; The world goes round, and joy with it, And life, free life, is men's delight.
No voice God's wondrous silence breaks, No hand put forth His anger tells; But He, the Omnipotent and Dread, On high in humblest patience dwells.
The Son hath come; and maddened sin The world's Creator crucified;
The Spirit comes, and stays, while men His presence doubt, His gifts deride.
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