Deh Fammiti Vedere. Oh, Make Me See Thee, Lord, Where'Er I Go! If Mortal Beauty Sets My Soul On Fire, That Flame When Near To Thine Must Needs Expire, And I With Love Of Only Thee Shall Glow. Dear Lord, Thy Help I Seek Against This Woe, These Torments That My Spirit Vex And Tire; Thou Only With New Strength Canst Re-Inspire My Will, My Sense, My Courage Faint And Low. Thou Gavest Me On Earth This Soul Divine; And Thou Within This Body Weak And Frail Didst Prison It--How Sadly There To Live! How Can I Make Its Lot Less Vile Than Mine? Without Thee, Lord, All Goodness Seems To Fail. To Alter Fate Is God'S Prerogative.
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