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Rh Not my Will, Saviour sweet,

But thine performed be.

All things I count as Dung

Compared unto thee.

Pomps, Pleasures, and Delights,

(That I may worthy be,)

I do abandon quite,

Sweet Christ for Love of thee

For thee my Soul was made,

Nought else contenteth me.

All Earthly Pleasures fade;

Thou liv'st Eternally.

Strengthen me by thy Grace

That I may worthy be

In Heav'n to see thy Face,

And burn in Love with thee