Classic Poem

Who shall not fear thee Lord? Thine angels sing.
Who shall not love thee Lord? Thy children say
Oh fair, yet dreadful One, Whose awful smile
Makes blest, yet sanctifies the realms of day.

Thy voice oh Lord, it is a still sweet sound
Yet doth the spirit shrink that voice to hear
Yet while it trembles cannot turn or flee
But awe struck, humbled, ever draws more near.

Thine eye oh Lord, a pure and searching fire
Thrills thro us, with its calm but piercing rays
Helpless, we stand and silent, every thought
Unveiled and read, by that still earnest gaze.

Yet infinite, high, wonderous as thou art
And pure beyond all thoughts of purity
Lo do our hearts thy mighty magic feel
That trembling still are long to look on Thee.

We know our being trembles in Thy hand
That life or death is given by Thy word
We know ourselves unholy and impure
In Thy bright searching presence, Holy Lord

Yet, thro the light that dazzles—fire that burns
Thro all the signs and wonders round Thy throne
We press, we burn with zeal sanctified
To stand before Thee, face to face, alone.

Strong is thy being Father, but more strong
The trusting love that seeks in Thee our rest
Stronger than the fear or doubt, the mighty love
That draws Thy trembling children to Thy breast.