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Thine is The Glory


 

 

Thine is the glory, risen, conqu'ring Son;
endless is the victory, Thou o'er death hast won;
angels in bright raiment rolled the stone away,
kept the folded grave clothes where Thy body lay.

Lo! Jesus meets us, risen from the tomb;
lovingly He greets us, scatters fear and gloom;
let the church with gladness, hymns of triumph sing;
for her Lord now liveth, death hath lost its sting.

No more we doubt Thee, glorious Prince of life;
life is naught without Thee; aid us in our strife;
make us more than conqu'rors, through Thy deathless love:
bring us safe through
Jordan to Thy home above.

Thine is the glory, risen conqu'ring Son,
endless is the vict'ry, Thou o'er death hast won.

Edmond L. Budry

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