We lift our song with one accord,
Do Thou lift up our hearts, O Lord,
And let Thine angels Heav'nward bear
The incense of our praise and prayer.

We praise Thee, Lord, of all the earth,
For love and joy, for light and mirth,
For every charm of sense and right,
And blessings boundless as Thy might —

For golden suns that rise and sink
Behind the hills empurpled brink,
For flowers that paint the summer shade,
And rivers wandering down the glade.

But most we praise the love that gave
Thine own dear Son to seek and save,
For joy all other joys excelling,
For purest light and life indwelling;

For Him, the spotless lily flower,
The rose that bloom'd in Sharon's bower,
The sun that never leaves our Heaven,
The waters for our healing given.

We wait like tuned harp, O Lord,
Be Thine the hand to sweep the chord,
And draw a note from every soul,
And bid the music Heavenward roll.
Rate this poem: 


No reviews yet.