Ah, make me less that I become more Thee.
Make me not humble, but meek.
Make my meekness nay an weakness
But an armor.
Cloak my frailness o’ Thy love.
Thereby shall all that I do lack me
Be made whole and full filled.
by Patience Worth
And thus the people every year in the valley of humid July did sacrifice themselves to the long green phallic god and eat and eat and eat. T...
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