The Tune of Grace

The fountain of praise springing from my lips is dry
And my heart is filled with longing and grief
O that someone would help me find my wings to fly
When will I see your face and finally feel relief?

My soul aches to know you and experience sweet release
From all that this vile world provides in poisonous doses of pain
If I could but see your providential hand then I could be at peace
But I see neither hand nor power, and feel I shall never be the same.

My pulse quickens, my heart beats with uneasy rhythm,
While the doubts rise and the fears threaten to overtake
But I must cast my wild heart upon the only Sovereign who is risen
And trust The Lord who fears no one—for his name sake.

Where is my bread, where is my wine? They are hardly found
My tears flow unbidden down my cheeks staining the Script
These doubts, fears and heartaches upon my heals like a hound
Bellow and howl longing for my soul, and my steps had well nigh slipped.

Now in the pain, my heart sees a light shining though dim
while the darkness deepens and fear throbs through my pate.
How do I hear a melody though within my ears, I find no hymn?
How can this be though the burdens of soul are so great.

This Word I hear, it comes not from within my jaded heart
It speaks to me through pages stained with tears and blood
But I can hardly glimpse its truth and it threatens to depart
I must hear it, I must know it, it is the path that angel’s trod.

Wait, wait, it is stronger still, it comes from the Master’s tongue
I hear it clearly, its sound higher and nobler fills the space
It is louder now and I hear– though with my ear untrained to its song
A note so lofty, so merciful and perfect, O, Beloved! tis the tune of Grace.

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