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Song of the Whirlwind


Oh, my God is in the whirlwind,

I am walking in the valley;

Lift me up, O Shinning Father,

To the glory of the heavens,

I have seen a thousand troubles

On the journey men call living,

I have drunk a thousand goblets

From misfortune’s bitter wine press.

But to Thee I cling forever,

God of Jacob, God of Rachel.


Oh, my soul is in the whirlwind,

I am dying in the valley,

Oh, my soul is in the whirlwind

And my bones are in the valley;

At her spinning wheel is Mary

Spinning raiment of the lilies,

On her knees is Martha honey

Shinning bright the golden pavement.

All the ninety nine is waiting

For my coming, for my coming.



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