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93 Mosley

O, Zion, afflicted with wave upon wave, 
Whom no man can comfort, whom no man can save; 
With darkness surrounded, by terrors dismay'd, 
In toiling and rowing thy strength is decay'd. 

Loud roaring, the billows now nigh overwhelm, 
But skillful's the pilot who sits at the helm;
His wisdom conducts thee, his pow'r thee defends, 
In safety and quiet thy warfare he ends.

O fearful! O faithless! in mercy he cries; 
My promise, my truth, are they light in thine eyes?
Still, still I am with thee, my promise shall stand; 
Thro' tempest and tossing I'll bring thee to land.

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