Classic Poem

In thine own ways, O God of love!
We wait the visits of thy grace;
We trust in mercy from above,
We long to see thy smiling face.

Our thoughts are searching, Lord! for thee,
Mid the black shades of lonesome night;
Our earnest cries salute the skies,
Before the dawn restores the light.

Look how rebellious men deride
The tender patience of our God!
But they shall see thy lifted hand,
And feel the scourges of thy rod.

Hark! the Eternal rends the sky;
A mighty voice before him goes; —
A voice of music to his friends,
But threat'ning thunder to his foes.

Come children! to your father's arms,
Hide in the chambers of my grace;
Till the fierce storms be overblown,
And my revenging fury cease.

My sword shall boast its thousands slain,
And drink the blood of haughty kings;
While heav'nly peace, around my flock,
Stretches its soft and shady wings.