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Whirring Wheels

   Lord, when on my bed I lie,
   Sleepless, unto Thee I’ll cry;
   When my brain works overmuch,
   Stay the wheels with Thy soft touch.
 
   Just a quiet thought of Thee,
   And of Thy sweet charity,—
   Just a little prayer, and then
   I will turn to sleep again.
Other works by John Oxenham...



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