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1178

My God—He sees thee—
Shine thy best—
Fling up thy Balls of Gold
Till every Cubit play with thee
And every Crescent hold—
Elate the Acre at his feet—
Upon his Atom swim—
Oh Sun—but just a Second's right
In thy long Race with him!

Edited by Peter Carter

Added: 2 Apr 2003 | Last Read: 7 Jun 2025 5:04 PM | Viewed: 7123 times

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