Observing You, on have I gone,
Within my mind, in my own psyche.
So I find no seat abroad;
I want to preserve privately.
You'll come down to dust of earth;
This thing, how shall I endure!
To rosy feet, to tender feet,
In which life will I render grief!
In my mind is a gold chair,
Jewel-adorned for Your sake.
Smiling You'll come, decked take seat,
Making my eyes highly pleased.
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Your true throne is within me.
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