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It may be at midday, it may be at twilight,It may be, perchance, that the blackness of midnightWill burst into light in the blaze of His glory,When Jesus receives “His own.”Oh, joy! oh, delight! should we go without dying,No sickness, no sadness, no dread and no crying;Caught up through the clouds with our Lord into glory,When Jesus receives “His own.”