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52. On Sins and Blessings.
We write thy common Blessings, Lord, uponA sliding streame; no sooner writ, but gon:
Thy more illustrious Favors we entrust
To the dry Sand, defac'd with ev'ry Gust:
But, Lord, our Scrowle of Sins are written downe
On during Marble, or some harder stone;
And our extreame mis-doings are thought good
To be inscrib'd, like Draco's Lawes, in blood:
Lord, let us change our Tables, or our Story,
And we shall have more Comfort; Thou, more Glory.
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