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Oh that He would rend Heaven, The earth shakes when he comes down; Mountains become uneven, As buildings crumble in town. When fire kindles brushwood, Fire makes the water boil; The adversaries’ falsehood, Stir from chaotic toil. When He did the awesome things, He came down as mountains quake; As the flowing water brings, The rivers for the trees’ sake. From of old no one has heard, By the ear or eye to see; But to those who are prepared, For Him to send a decree. With joy, He works righteousness, Remembers you in your way; The times that you did trespass, Confession from whence you stray. We have all become unclean, Polluted the righteous deeds; Not the way we should have been, The iniquity impedes. For we all fade like a leaf, That wind has driven away; Causing us much disbelief, Because we do disobey. There is one who calls your name, Who rouses to take a hold; It is us that must proclaim, You know that the prophets told. For you have hidden your face, Your sinning melts in His hand; Confessions have brought His grace, As He utters His command. Copyright ©2023 Richard Newton Sherrer Vote for this poem
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