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[275] Thou judgest us; Thy purity
     Doth all our lusts condemn;
The love that draws us nearer Thee
     Is hot with wrath to them.

Our thoughts lie open to Thy sight;
     And, naked to Thy glance,
Our secret sins are in the light
     Of Thy pure countenance.

Thy healing pains, a keen distress
     Thy tender light shines in;
Thy sweetness is the bitterness,
     Thy grace the pang of sin.

Yet, weak and blinded though we be,
     Thou dost our service own;
We bring our varying gifts to Thee,
     And Thou rejectest none.

To Thee our full humanity,
     Its joys and pains, belong;
The wrong of man to man on Thee
     Inflicts a deeper wrong.

Who hates, hates Thee, who loves becomes
     Therein to Thee allied;
All sweet accords of hearts and homes
     In Thee are multiplied.

Deep strike Thy roots, O heavenly Vine,
     Within our earthly sod,
Most human and yet most divine,
     The flower of man and God!

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