To him that overcomes,
Shall I grant to sit with me in my Father’s throne,
To him that overcomes
Shall I make a pillar in the temple of my God.
The trumpet blows, a voice sounds clear,
That all of God’s sons shall dwell up here
In raiment white and pure,
And I counsel thee to buy of me
This gold that has been tried in the fire.
Copyright Bob and Charlotte Torango
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