First Sunday after Easter

Our God in glory sits on high:
Man may not see and live:
Yet witness of Himself on earth
For ever does He give.

His Spirit dwells in all good hearts;
All precious fruits of love,
Thoughts, words, and works, made holy, bear
His witness from above.

The Baptism waters have not ceas'd
To spread His Name, since first
From the Redeemer's wounded Side
The holy fountain burst

That other stream of endless life,
His all-atoning Blood:
Is it not still our Cup of Grace?
His Flesh, our spirits' food?

O! never may our sinful hearts,
What Thou hast joined, divide!
Thy Spirit in Thy mysteries still
For life, not death, abide!
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