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My heart is troubled by a foolish thing

A cacophony of voices over it does reign

What desires of my ruthless and vain conjuring?

Though never a thing does mere longing bring.

So I pray dear God, Creator of all things

Set my heart straight, that to You I might sing

All my cares, and needs, to Your wise dispensing

For indeed thou art, even of fools like me, King.

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