My heart doth overflow; A noble theme I sing. My tongue's a skilful writer's pen To peak about the King.
More fair than sons of men Thy lips with grace o'er flow, Because His blessing evermore Did God on Thee bestow.
Thy sword gird on Thy thigh, O Thou supreme in might, And gird Thyself with majesty And with Thy splendor bright.
To victory ride forth For meekness, truth, and right; And may Thy right hand teach to THee The deeds of dreadful might.
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