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WALSAL. C. M.
Lord! in the morning thou shalt hear, My voice ascending high. Treble.
Thine earthly Sabbaths, Lord, we love, But there's a nobler rest above; Treble.
To that our lab'ring souls aspire, With ardent pangs of strong desire.
ARLINGTON. C. M.
This is the day the Lord hath made, He calls the hours his own; Let Treble.
heaven rejoice, let earth be glad, And praise surround his throne,