He, a friend, though my king,
About Him, I have heard,
About Him, I have read,
In a silent night, before me, He stands,
Feet like bronze refined in a furnace,
Clothed in a long robe with golden sash,
Face that shone like the brilliance of the sun,
Hair as white as wool,
Eyes like flames of fire,
A two-edged sword, His mouth held,
Voice as a sound of many waters,
Surrounded by His glory, do I stand or fall to my knees?
Do I dance or in awe of Him remain still?
Do I sing hallelujah or keep my mouth ajar?
ÌYÉTIDÉ
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