Our song is a minuet, A second chance with each new step; A hymn of heart to Him who art The root of all our souls. The hours sing, the minutes rap, The seconds chant their epitaphs. The clocks quick hands endlessly dance, Swinging from pole to pole. Twelve tones echo through space and time And time, too, has its twelve divides— Israel's tribes, the kin of Christ— Ensembles young and old. The keys of life are black and white, The organ roars through countless pipes; The wind of God is sent abroad And howls through every hole. One rhythm binds both East and West, One Spirit, pulse, and beat in chest, One movement swift toward Heaven’s wish: May love no more grow cold. The scales weigh both good and bad With harmony held in their grasp; Our dissonance pleads, "Oh, please release! Come peace and make us whole." The instruments are you and I, Our heart strings bow and sing to life; As one, come join the ode to joy, Let song like billows roll! Let all God's works in concert sing— Yes, sing ‘til all creation rings, With trumpet blast and cymbal crash Now shout with joy so bold! Oh, beat the drums in every ear, Proclaim the anthem loud and clear; May all lost sheep who fell asleep Be brought into His fold! The thunder claps — the earth, it shakes The skies rain down showers of praise To Jesus Christ, the Lord of life Who rose and sacked Sheol! The temple fills with smoke and sound; The air is thick, our spirits bound, With lifted hands and hearts aglow, With dancing feet battering the floor, With loved ones past and present know: Death is no more! Sing and adore: Praise God from whom all blessings flow! Praise Him all creatures here below! Praise Him above, ye heavenly host! Praise Father, Son and Holy Ghost!
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