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O God, what blessed time,

To be set free now from the flesh.

What choice song, blissful chime,

To be triumphant o'er its trash,

A fog is lifted up,

A burden broken, gone for good,

As we do clink the cup,

And feast with thee on heaven's food.

The great celestial throng,

Here thrives and throbs bofore thy throne,

Released from satan's prong,

Thy foe once fierce, in throes now prone.

Angelic hymns do rise,

Engulfing souls and hearts of saints,

O'er canstant new surprise,

And treasures rich in tints and paints.

To thee the honour, strength,

The power, wisdom, wealth, o Lamb.

In all the timeless length,

The g1ory, blessing's thine, o Lamb!

Chris Bouter

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