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The clock of life is wound but once,
And no man has the power
To tell just where the hands will stop —
At late or early hour.
To lose one's wealth is sad indeed,
To lose one's health is more,
To lose one's soul is such a loss
As no man can restore.
The present only is our own,
Live for Christ with a will;
Place no faith in tomorrow
I know you always will
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