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| When i think my load is heavy, And I can't carry anymore, I think about the heavier cross, That his poor shoulders bore. Sometimes I fairly stumble, Beneath my troubled load, But then He stumbled more than I, As He walked down Calvary's road. My face is wet with falling tears, My forehead tight in thought, But He had blood upon His brow, From the crown of thorns they wrough. My friends have but abondoned me, They are no longer near, But He had been forsaken more, And they taunted him and jeered. I pray to have such strenght as His, To be led by Jesus' hand He suffered far more pain than I, Yet,He obeyed His Fathers's plan. |
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| ~~~ authur unknown~~~ |
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