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Brace, My Soul




Brace, my soul, for landing

this is not dream nor lore,

for you shall awake on grace fields

if not gone to our Lord,

where yet there is a harvest,

there’s work for your blessed sleep.

In trust we repose for sound rest,

in confidence we reap.


Believe, with each step passing

amongst the wheat and tare,

for mercy calls for waiting

for God to choose and share.

Thus marvel that His coming

awaits changing hearts to care,

that He within His Sonship

would seek out the sinner.


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