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Chapter 102 of 207

The following little poem is inscribed

1 min read · Chapter 102 of 207
TO MYSELF.

Lass dich nur nichts nicht dauern

Let nothing make thee sad or fretful,

Or too regretful,

Be still;

What God hath ordered must be right,

Then find in it thine own delight,

My will.

Why shouldst thou fill to-day with sorrow

About to-morrow,

My heart?

One watches all with care most true,

Doubt not that He will give thee too

Thy part.

Only be steadfast, never waver,

Nor seek earth's favour,

But rest:

Thou knowest what God wills must be

For all His creatures, so for thee,

The best.

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