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, for my task is done— Triumph, for my prize is won. Angel! who dost keep the gate Where the rescued souls await For the speaking of that word Which doth sheath the fiery sword, And reveals to human eyes Hope's long promised paradise, Bend thine head, and stretch thine hand: Place! in thy immortal band, For the child I bear above, In the strength of faith and love. Vanquish'd at my feet, behold He the serpent king of old. Round us is the burning coil— Who may 'scape from such a toil? Flashes yet his fiery eye— Who may its fierce light defy? Who might aid? for vain were here Human sword, or human spear. Death is on each forked tongue, Lightning round each neck is hung: But I triumph'd, for I came In the Saviour's blessed name. Victory o'er the soil and snare, O'er earth's crime, and o'er earth's care;