Oh, that You would rend Heaven,
Come down as the mountains quake;
At Your presence has given,
Has taken away the ache.
As fire kindles brushwood,
Fire makes water boil;
To make Your name known as could,
As foes tremble from toil.
When You did such awesome things,
That I never had looked for;
As the mountain quakes it brings,
Me to my knees on the floor.
From of old no one has heard,
Or had perceived through their ear;
The true meaning of the Word,
And the reason we should fear.
For no eye has ever seen,
Who acts for the ones who wait;
Unknowingly that has been,
With the outcome of their fate.
You meet who works righteousness,
Those who remember Your ways;
Anger flows from wickedness,
From the one who disobeys.
We have all become unclean,
All of our righteous deeds;
Are polluted and obscene,
Turning into thorns and weeds.
We will all fade like a leaf,
Like the wind take us away;
Because our disbelief,
Iniquities make us stray.
No one calls upon Your name,
Who rouses for to take hold;
The hidden face we proclaim,
Revealed as life does unfold.
For You are our Father,
We happen to be the clay;
And You being the potter,
Your hands mold us to obey.
Restrain Yourself at these things,
Keep silent as You afflict;
For what the affliction brings,
Ends with You any conflict.
Copyright © 2020 Richard Newton Sherrer
