charles ives - the waiting soul lyrics
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breathe from the gentle south
cheer me from the north;
blow on the treasures of thy word
call the spices forth!
help me to reach the distant goal;
confirm my feeble knee;
pity the sickness of a soul
that faints for love of thee!
cold as i feel this heart of mine
yet, since i feel it so
it yields some hope of life divine
till the dear deliverer come
i’ll wait with humble prayer;
[and when he calls his exile home
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