You Will Rise From The Dead

 Oh child of mine, may you behold.

The beauty and wonder, of precious gold.

My servant you are, if you stay close to ME.

For I will bless you more,


than you ever hoped to be.


Run like the wind and be merry and glad.

Drink from my cup and be no longer sad.

Up may you rise and sore in the air.....

And remember no more, you were ever filled with fear.


Draw close to me and I will draw close to you.

As the gathering of sheep, may be but a few.

Count down the days, for the time is drawing near.

When the trumpet will be heard, for those I hold dear.


Stay on the course, I have ordained for you.

For by grace you will stand, and your heart be like new.

Though weary you be, in times of great dread.

When I make my appearance, you will rise from the dead.


My servant, my servant.... 

Know I am near.

For my promise to you, that your cross I will bear.

Out of the ashes, you will rise and be strong.

And go forth in power, as you worship in song.


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