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2 Its sword my spirit will not yield, 3 My cloud of battle-dust may dim, Though flesh may faint upon the field; His veil of splendor curtain Him;
He waves before my fading sight And in the .midnight of my fear
The branch of palm, the crown of light: I may not feel Him standing near: 1 I lift my brightening eyes above,— But, as I lift mine eyes above,
His banner over me is love. His banner over me is love.
Gerald Massey, 1869 1
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