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Bear up thy dream! thou mighty and thou weak! Heart, strong as death, yet as a reed to break. As a flame, tempest-swayed! He that sits calm on high is yet the source Whence thy soul's current hath its troubled course, He that great deep hath made!

Will He not pity?—He whose searching eye Reads all the secrets of thine agony?— Oh! pray to be forgiven Thy fond idolatry, thy blind excess, And seek with Him that bower of blessedness— Love! thy sole home is heaven!