When God Descends, a Streaming Fire

When God des­cends

a stream­ing fire

Attends Him through the sky;

Thick clouds com­pose His dark at­tire

And vi­vid light­nings fly.

Impervious wreaths of smoke sur­round

And hide His aw­ful seat;

Incessant thun­ders roar around

Or mur­mur at His feet.

’Twas thus on Si­nai’s lof­ty hill

Jehovah once ap­peared;

The trum­pet loud pro­claimed His will

And trem­bling Is­ra­el heard.

They trem­bling heard

but straight for­got

The ter­rors of the day;

They scarce­ly left the aw­ful spot

Before they went as­tray.

Their so­lemn vows they soon re­voke

False and un­grate­ful prove;

Forget the tem­pest

fire and smoke

Their mak­er’s wrath and love.

What Si­nai’s ter­rors ne’er could do

That Si­on’s God per­forms;

’Tis He cre­ates our hearts anew

And strength­ens fee­ble worms.

He gent­ly leads our wan­der­ing souls

In paths of right­eous­ness;

And all our pass­ions He con­trols

By His all-pow­er­ful grace.

From Si­nai we to Si­on fly

The ci­ty of our God;

Unawed and fear­less we draw nigh

And make it our ab­ode.