Being His

His oceans all rum­ble and bat­ter His shore

But He will be new when its waves are no more.

His mount­ains reach sky­ward to touch His sweet face;

His for­ests burst forth as He show­ers their place.

The migh­ty Le­via­than leaps in His seas

The ea­gle mounts up on the joy of His breeze.

The crea­tures of earth bor­row life from His hand

Their days are all nu­mbered by His firm co­mmand.

Eternity springs from His In­fi­nite Mind—

All time and all space from His fing­ers un­wind

His in­tri­cate

lim­it­less

un­bound­ed skill

Spins threads of His sov­er­eign

in­scrut­able will.

The thun­der of Si­nai re­sounds in our ears

The judg­ment of God stirs the deep­est of fears!

But

awe­some and won­drous—more stag­ger­ing still—

The flash­es of light­ning from Cal­va­ry’s hill!

But O! How migh­ty

how per­fect

how free

How bless­èd

how pre­cious

how love­ly is He!

And O! How grand

and how sweet to be­hold

The tro­phies of grace He has won from of old!

A ra­di­ant tri­umph il­lum­ines His face!

He strides to His throne

the Co­lo­ssus of Grace!

He sits

and His Fa­ther pro­claims Him True Son!

His strife is now ov­er; His bat­tle is done.

We bow

we ad­ore

we fall down at His throne

He ga­thers us in­to His arms as His own!

He seats us in glo­ry be­side Him ab­ove

To crown His achiev­ement with splen­dors of love!