|
|
Isn't He wonderful? Don't you just feel like
worshipping Him, just in the Spirit, just
worship Him? [Brother Branham begins
humming, "Down From His Glory"--Ed.] When in
the dead of night, not one faint hope
in sight;
God, precious, tender, laid aside His splendor,
(Think of what He did.)
Stooping to woo, to win and save my soul.
|