over the
scene.

But if you should have the spirit of Mosier with you and have him for
your friend today,
He will give you high life and glory, you will have a good time all
the way.
Then when the old house begins to shatter, brighter is life's star
above the day.
The angels linger near to bear the ransomed soul away.

* * * * *

A Praise--The Kingdom

Over the eastern star Shilo's light will shine.
Through the many that is dimly burning ascends high the light of Zion.

He to reign for a thousand years, the seas the rocks obey.
Preparing the world for his father's throne, through all the souls to
him that pray.

The saints with him to reign for a thousand years, the rest of the
dead is a long time gone.
The angels with him shall reign, the great infinite throng.

When the souls and the hills are all prepared; when the seas are
overcome,
The kingdom of all creation he delivers up as an obedient son.

* * * * *

The Song of the Serpent

We went to Calvary and stood just away. The prince of glory
was there, in the hands of the people, who crucified him
that day: Out on Judah's green hills, arrayed in the
light of white and gray.

We went to watch through the ages, the things that the
wicked would do. The works of the evil all the way
through. They have crucified his saints in all nations
of the earth. All of his saints that were true.

From the gates above Zion the Lord shall descend. His fiery
wheels flaming with power--scattering the wicked of men.
Who have slaughtered his saints in prisons of horrid
death; whosoever were known among them.

A billion angels at his right, intermingling with
others--the saints of might. Who has ascended from
death, enthroned with his light. Those that were burned
in the fire by the wicked, to spite. Comes inclosing the
evil in their eternal dark night.

The voice of the serpent,--that whispers from the mire of
the sea. Or that sigh of the evil, from the dust
ascending before thee. Each soul is still weeping--each
heart in sorrow alone. Or that mind of the living that
fell from his great throne.

What joy thought the evil, that wandered in sorrow's broad
trend. My soul has heard a wailing, as the song of the
serpent by men. O souls what