Young and Radiant

Young and ra­di­ant

He is stand­ing

As He stood at Sa­lem’s shrine;

Just a lad

a lad for­ev­er

With a look and grace di­vine!

Tell me

how it is ye sought Me?

Wist ye not My Fa­ther’s plan?

I must be about His bu­si­ness

Would I be a Son of Man.

I can see Him hum­bly kneel­ing

As He knelt up­on the hill;

While the wa­ters hushed their mu­sic

And the night grew bright and still:

Brothers

tell Me why ye sought Me?

Wist ye not My Fa­ther’s plan?

He must grow in grace and wis­dom

Who would be a Son of Man.

Like a flame His soul is strik­ing

In His wrath at greed and shame;

Ye have made a den of rob­bers

Of the tem­ple to His name;

Know ye not His eq­ual justice?

Wist ye not My Fa­ther’s plan?

He must bathe His sword in Heav­en

Who would be a Son of Man.

I can see Him dy­ing

lov­ing

Unto death on Cal­va­ry;

His dear hands still plead­ing

pray­ing

Worn and torn for you and me!

Brothers

will ye scorn and leave Me?

Wist ye not My Fa­ther’s plan?

He must wear a crown of sor­row

Who would be a Son of Man.