One day the beating shall cease, My wounded, stricken heart, Before the Creator's peace, No longer pulled apart…
And compromise with sin shall judge My fallings and my shame, All shall occur—no budge— Without the harp's soft frame…
And someone evil, strong and keen Shall speak with cunning voice: "She's mine, for I have been The one who made her choice.
She waits no more in hope For love and faith from those alive…" "No, this is lies, but as before she'd cope— She loved them all in You, to thrive…
And therefore My most Holy Lamb Led her through trials' test, And gave her faith that I, once damned, Alone am ever blessed…
She is Mine, the dispute is done, You've lost all claim and right,"— Once Father called upon, Her soul entered My light…
