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IN the hour of my distress,
When temptations me oppress,
And when I my sins confess,
Sweet Spirit, comfort me!
When I lie within my bed,
Sick at heart, and sick in head,
And with doubts discomforted,
Sweet Spirit, comfort me!

When the house doth sigh and weep,

And the world is drowned in sleep, Yet mine eyes the watch do keep, Sweet Spirit, comfort me!

When the artless doctor sees
No one hope, but of his fees,
And his skill runs on the lees,

Sweet Spirit, comfort me!
When his potion and his pill,
Has or none or little skill,"
Meet for nothing, but to kill, -
Sweet Spirit, comfort me!

When the passing bell doth toll,
And the Furies, in a shoal,
Come to fright a parting soul,

Sweet Spirit, comfort me!

When the tapers now burn blue,
And the comforters are few,
And that number more than true,
Sweet Spirit, comfort me!

When the priest his last hath prayed,
And I nod to what is said,
Because my speech is now decayed,
Sweet Spirit, comfort me!

When, God knows, I'm tost about
Either with despair or doubt,
Yet before the glass be out,

Sweet Spirit, comfort me!

When the Tempter me pursu'th With the sins of all my youth, And half damns me with untruth, Sweet Spirit, comfort me!

When the flames and hellish cries Fright mine ears, and fright mine

eyes, And all terrors me surprise,

Sweet Spirit, comfort me!

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RUN, shepherds, run where Bethlehem blest appears.

We bring the best of news; be not dismayed:

A Saviour there is born more old than years,

Amidst heaven's rolling height this earth who stayed.

In a poor cottage inned, a virgin maid

A weakling did him bear, who all upbears;

There is he poorly swaddled, in manger laid,

To whom too narrow swaddlings are our spheres:

Run, shepherds, run, and solemnize his birth.

This is that night-no, day, grown

great with bliss,

In which the power of Satan broken is:

In heaven be glory, peace unto the earth!

Thus singing, through the air the angels swarm,

And cope of stars re-echoed the




TELL us, thou clear and heavenly tongue,

Where is the Babe but lately sprung? Lies he the lily-banks among?

Or say, if this new Birth of ours Sleeps, laid within some ark of flowers,

Spangled with dew-light; thou canst clear

All doubts, and manifest the where.

Declare to us, bright star, if we shall seek

Him in the morning's blushing cheek,

Or search the beds of spices through, To find him out?

Star. - No, this ye need not do;
But only come and see Him rest,
A princely babe, in's mother's breast.

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