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Burial of the DeadLORD, thou hast been our refuge from one generation to another.
Before the mountains were brought forth or ever the earth and the world were made thou art God from everlasting and world without end.
Thou turnest man to destruction; again thou sayest, Come again ye children of me.
For a thousand years in thy sight are but as yesterday; seeing that is past as a watch in the night.
As soon as Thou scatterest them they are even as a sleep and fade away suddenly like the grass.
In the morning it is green and groweth up but in the evening is it cut down, dried up and withered.
Fro we consume away in thy displeasure and are afraid at thy wrathful indignation.
Thou hast set our misdeeds before thee and our secret sins in the light of thy countenance.
For when thou art angry, all our days are gone; we bring our years to an end as it were a tale that is told.
The days of our age are threescore years and ten and though men be so strong that they come to fourscore years, yet is their strength then but labour and sorrow so soon passeth it away and we are gone.
O teach us to number our days that we may apply our hearts unto wisdom.
Glory be to the Father and to the Son and to the Holy Ghost;
As it was in the beginning is now, and ever shall be, world without end.
Amen.
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Burial of the DeadDeus Misereatur