Up to the gospel feast;
Gird on the garment white as snow,
To join and be a guest.
Dost thou not hear the trumpet call
For thee, my soul, for thee?
Not only thee, my soul, but all,
May rise and enter free.
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Rise up, my soul and let us go Up to the gospel feast; Gird on the garment white as snow, To join and be a guest. Dost thou not hear the trumpet call |
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