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 And never from heaven bright: I'll ever hope and always pray, Until I get my Saviour's sight. I think indeed you are now right, If you had faith you could win in: Importune then with all your might, Faith is the feet wherewith ye come; It is the hands will hold him fast, But weak faith may not presume; 'Twill let you sink, and be aghast, Strongly believe, or you're undone. But, good saint Peter, let me be, Had yon such faith, did it abound? When you did walk upon the sea, Was you not like for to be drown'd, Had not our Saviour helped thee, Who came and took thee by the hand, So can my Lord do unto me, And bring me to the promised land. Is my faith weak? yet he is still The same and ever shall remain; His mercies last, and his good will, To bring me to his flock again; He will me help and me relieve, And will increase my faith also, Of weakly I can but believe, For from this place I'll ever go. But Peter said, how can that be, How durst thou look him in the face, Such horrid sinners like to thee, Can have no courage to get grace;