From The Brightness Of The Glory,
‘Go Ye Forth,’ He Said:
‘Heal The Sick And Cleanse The Lepers,
Raise The Dead.

‘Freely Give I Thee The Treasure,
Freely Give The Same;
Take No Store Of Gold Or Silver
Take My Name.

‘Thou Art Fitted For The Journey,
How So Long It Be:
Thou Shalt Come, Unworn, Unwearied,
Back To Me.

‘Thou Shalt Tell Me In The Glory
All That Thou Hast Done,
Setting Forth Alone, Returning
Not Alone.

‘Thou Shalt Bring The Ransomed With Thee,
They With Songs Shall Come
As The Golden Sheaves Of Harvest,
Gathered Home.