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999.

[Through hope of perfect love delay'd]

Hope deferred maketh the heart sick. —xiii. 12.

Through hope of perfect love delay'd
Sick of desire my heart is made,
And cannot cannot rest,
Till Thou, the pardoning God, impress
In true substantial holiness
Thine image on my breast.
No longer, dearest Lord, defer,
But now the second time appear,
To save my soul again,
Come Father, Son, and Spirit come,
And in Thy meanest earthly home
Eternally remain.