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Saul! Saul!
I braced myself in that vast hour,
Marking His mighty nod,
Strange winds directed my poor aim:
I hurled my soul to God.
Marking His mighty nod,
Strange winds directed my poor aim:
I hurled my soul to God.
I saw His casual Hand reach out,
The gaping stars grew dim,
My soul lay weeping in His Palm:
Well caught! I cried to Him.
The gaping stars grew dim,
My soul lay weeping in His Palm:
Well caught! I cried to Him.
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