In days of death
and poetry and awe,
Not in the flesh
but in the soul I saw
A scaly thing
clutch the dying as he fell
With shrieking
curse, midst stench and brimstone smell.
It’s course was
rudely stopped by golden wing.
The man sprang
free and soaring rose on high.
The roaring
demon fell earthward with a cry,
The man released
from bonds began to sing.
Christ’s blood
had interposed and set him free,
That gracious
blood was shed for you and me.
Released from
shadowlands we will be,
To stand in
light beside a golden sea,
And walk in
flesh upon a golden shore,
And with our
King rejoice for evermore.
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