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96t Summer

I would not live alway; I ask not to stay 
Where storm after storm rises dark o'er the way;
The few lucid mornings that dawn on us here 
Are follow'd by gloom or beclouded with fear.

I would not live alway, thus fetter'd by sin, 
Temptation without, and corruption within:
The rapture of pardon is mingled with fears, 
The cup of salvation with penitent tears.

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