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Prayer

O Lord, let your will pass through my soul
As wind through a grove of straightly-planted olive trees
Full in their season; and the grape vines beyond them
In their time; and the barley, oats, and corn.

Let my wisdom grow fat like the cows which bellow
Into the deep valley where they daily graze
Which slants down to the river
From which we all drink.

Make my spirit fresh and young
As lambs when the lavender and juniper berries
Perfume the fields; let their peace be
My peace as their peace is thine. 

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