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MUSTERED OUT.
      Own my weakness,
      And with meekness
    Wait in peace the mustering out.

I can thank Him for the spirit that upheld my shrinking soul,
Nerved the arm and pointed onward with a power beyond control,
For the strength of fire and manhood,yea, for even wound and groan,
      Partial giving
      Is our living,
    But to die makes all His own.

He will hold the trusts I leave Him; He will guard the trembling feet;
He will shield through pain and sorrow, winter's cold and summer's heat;
And when through the Christmas chiming I shall hear my name without,
      Close beside me,
      He will guide me;—
    So I wait the mustering out!