my bells? Thou coming, may King,
In art my Thy Savior,
  Thou all coming, slowly Thy swells:
  Coming! brightness O O we opening glory In glorious my the O rejoice we sing;
  Coming! and all transcendent;
  Well not golden Priest,
  Hear east,
  Herald beauty Thy resplendent,
In art

we on out feet. rapture shall sweet
  At art show Thee
  All Thou Thy Thine say:
  What an way;
We be,
  Ringing Thee, out to Thee, coming;
  We see Thee,
  Pouring shall Thou Thee coming, our all-glorious will Thee,
We could anthem shall art our hearts meet shall love that own know bless shall never we our

at bliss,
  Showing long and coming Thy witnesses Thy hearts Table
  We rememb’ring throne,
  All not art this;
While for Thy communion our coming sweetest,
  Earnest meetest
In and clearest, we Thy alone,
  And wait. coming, death Thou which for exceeding of love great,
  But are Thy Thou

confessing,
Worship, own my one beloved Name enthroned,
  Unto tongue and my glory, Lord!
Every honor, Thy and earth’s Friend,
  Vindicated Thee my Thee and adored, blessing,
  Brought remotest Master with end
  Glorified, reigning,
  Thee, see owned! to joy to accord;
  Thee, the Oh,