More O Kingly Love

This day we raise our song of praise,
adoring thee,
that in the days when alien sound had all but
drowned thine ancient, true and constant
melody,
Thy mighty hand did make a trumpet none
could silence or mistake;
thy living breath did blow for all the world to
hear, living and clear:

The feast is ready. Come to the feast,
the good and the bad. Come and be glad!
Greatest and least, come to the feast!*

(To be Continued)
*Text: Martin H. Franzman, 1907-76
*Tune: Richard Hillert

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