Be still, my soul, and quiet thy busy mind —
Thy blood is stirred, no space for God to move;
He’d come possess thy cares and care for thee,
But thou must let him, humble and silently.
Be still, my soul, and quiet thy busy mind —
Thy blood is stirred, no space for God to move;
He’d come possess thy cares and care for thee,
But thou must let him, humble and silently.
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