Unsheathe Your Sword, O Lord!

[Ernest Koontz]

Suffer these little ones to come
What will soothe their passage?
Who will enter but His Son
So children receive His message
For His is the gift that grows
To swell in voice of praise
For every Christian knows
Christ came from His grave

He who makes the broken whole
Makes the cripples rise
Unsheathe your sword
For the Lord
For we will enter Paradise
For He comes
For He comes
For the Lord comes
For you and me

He who bears all alone
Drink from His Cup of Love
A golden reign from His throne
His, the sacrificial blood
Hold hands and let’s all feel it
Rising up as one
Oh Jesus yes I feel it
Entered by His only Son

He who makes the weak strong
Who on His blessings lay
Unsheathe your sword
It is the Lord
For only He can save
For He comes
For He comes
For the Lord comes
For you and me

[Daphne]

I am nearly speechless at the poetry here.

[annettecurtain]

{Suffer these little ones to come
What will soothe their passage?}

No idea. Vaseline?

[Daphne]

That never occurred to me.

[Daphne]

Upon reflection, Vaseline would do it.