In The Church Of Jesus Only—
She Of Heavenly Origin—
All Who’re Saved And Tell The Story,
Constitute His Body—One.

In Her Walks The Holy People,
And Her Walls Are Glory Bright;
On The Arm Of Her Beloved
Forth She Came In Dazzling Light.

See The Church In Heaven’s Beauty,
With Her Spotless Robe Of White;
She Is Marching On With Victory
In Jehovah’s Wondrous Might.

Yes, The Church, The Bride Of Jesus,
Born Of God, The Holy One—
Down From Him And Out Of Heaven,
She The Loving Bride Has Come.

Now The Earth In Fear And Trembling,
As The Ransomed Throng Increase,
And Her Songs, Like Thunders Rolling
From The Glory Of Her Peace.

Holy Angels Now Are Singing,
Victory! Victory Through The Blood!
Christ The Lord, Is Sweetly Reigning,
Glory, Glory Be To God!

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