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858.

[Troubles and sins, a countless crowd]

Innumerable troubles are come about me, &c. —xl. 15.

Troubles and sins, a countless crowd,
Beyond conception multiplied,
Have long this abject spirit bow'd,
And hemm'd me in on every side,
Forbade my weakness to look up,
And seem'd to quench my last faint spark of hope.

297

So strongly to all sin inclined,
So fast by vile attractions held,
So impotent my carnal mind,
I yield constrain'd, o'erpower'd I yield,
No longer struggle in the snare,
But sinks my heart, o'erwhelm'd with sad despair.