Then said Mercy,
Let the Most Blessed be my guide,
If't be his blessed will,
Unto his Gate, unto his Fold,
Up to his Holy Hill.
And let him never suffer me
To swerve or turn aside
From his free grace and holy ways,
Whate'er shall me betide.
And let him gather them of mine,
That I have left behind;
Lord make them pray they may be thine,
With all their heart and mind.
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from Pilgrims's Progress, Part 2 Christiana
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