The day is long, and the day is hard; We are tired of the march and of keeping guard, Tired of the sense of a fight to be won, Of days to live through and of work to be done, Tired of ourselves and of being alone. And all the while, did we only see, We walk in the Lord's own company; We fight, but 'tis He who strengthens our arm, He turns the arrows which else might harm, And out of the storm He brings a calm.
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