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THE CHURCH |
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2 How many, at His call,
Have parted from our throng!
They watch us from the crystal wall, And echo back our song. They rest, beyond complaints, Beyond all sighs and tears:
Praise be to God for all His saints Who wrought in bygone years. |
3 The banners they upbore
Our hands still lift on high; The Lord they followed evermore
To us is also nigh.
Arise, arise, and tread
The future without fears; He leadeth still, whose hand hath led
Through all the bygone years. |
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