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" I falter where I firmly trod, And falling with my weight of cares Upon the great world's altar-stairs That slope through darkness up to God, I stretch lame hands of faith, and grope, And gather dust and chaff, and call To what I feel is Lord of all, And... "
Eclectic Magazine: Foreign Literature - Page 355
1851
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Victorian Studies: A Journal of the Humanities, Arts, and Sciences

1960 - 842 pages
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