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P. M.
He will swallow up death in victory.
Isaiah 25:8.
Lo! the seal of death is breaking;
Those who slept its sleep are waking;
Heaven opes its portals fair!
Hark! the harps of God are ringing;
Hark! the seraph’s hymn is flinging
Music on immortal air.
2 There, no more at eve declining,
Suns without a cloud are shining
O’er the land of life and love;
There the founts of life are flowing,
Flowers unknown to time, are blowing
In that radiant scene above.
3 There no sigh of memory swelleth;
There no tear of misery welleth;
Hearts will bleed or break no more;
Past is all the cold world’s scorning,
Gone the night, and broke the morning,
Over all the golden shore.