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And The Glory Of The Lord
O Thou That Tellest Good Tidings To Zion
For Unto Us A Child Is Born
His Yoke Is Easy, And His Burthen Is Light
Surely He Hath Borne Our Griefs
And With His Stripes We Are Healed
All We Like Sheep Have Gone Astray
Lift Up Your Heads, O Ye Gates
Their Sound Is Gone Out Into All Lands
O Death, Where Is Thy Sting?
℗© 1995 Narada Productions, Inc.
