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3103.

[Let the fond joy of grace decay]

That which thou sowest is not quickened, &c. —xv. 36.

Let the fond joy of grace decay,
Pass my boasted gifts away,
My comforts all expire!
When nature's long-lived will is dead,
Then shall the' incorruptible seed
Spring up in pure desire.
My grain of faith, my buried grain
He shall bring to life again,
Who did the blessing give:
Then shall I live to God alone,
And taken up to share His throne,
With Christ triumphant live.