No longer of Him be it said, ?He hath no place to lay His head?; In every land a constant lamp Flames by His small and mighty camp. There is no strange and distant place That is not gladdened by His face; And every nation kneels to hail The Splendor shining through its veil. Imprisoned for His love of me He makes my spirit greatly free; And through my lips that uttered sin The King of Glory enters in.
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