Creator

(Can be sung to the tune of “Some day the silver chord will break”)

I see the power of God revealed
In Nature’s great, mysterious ways;
Its boundless hoards will always yield
To their Creator precious praise.
    And Heaven and Earth, and land and sea,
    Declare to all Thy majesty.

I see again the graceful sweep
Of mountains willing to remain
In touch with Earth, though high and steep
They raise their heads above the rain;
    While Heaven and Earth, and land and sea,
    Are singing hymns of praise to Thee.

I see the proud, unheeding rush
Of mighty rivers through the land;
I see the waves rear up and crush
Their powerful rage upon the sand;
    While Heaven and Earth, and land and sea,
    Are praising still Thy majesty.

A tree lifts up its leafy boughs
As if in blessing o’er the flowers;
While close at hand another bows
To feel the scent of those same flowers;
    While Heaven and Earth, and land and sea,
    Ring out their joyful songs to Thee.

Oh Lord, how little do we see,
How poor our estimate of Thee;
Let Nature’s voice our teacher be;
Lord, let us grasp Thy majesty;
    While Heaven and Earth, and land and sea,
    Still praise Thee for Thy majesty.

Our praise, so weak, now thrills our ear,
We stutter on, in song and verse;
But, oh! The joy when we shall hear
The voice that made the Universe!
    Then Heaven and Earth, and land and sea,
    Shall join us as we sing to Thee!
    And angel throngs, in harmony,
    Shall join us as we sing to Thee!

(05/07/88; revised in 31/10/2015)
© W. J. Watterson

I gaze in wonder

(Can be sung to the tune of “When I survey the wondrous cross”)


I gaze in wonder, oh my God,
Upon Thy Son, and feel so small;
I think of how the awful rod
Of Thy just wrath on Him did fall.

His sweat ran down, as drops of blood,
While those He loved were fast asleep;
He poured His heart in one great flood
(He knew that He with death must meet).

His friends all turned and ran away,
And even Thou didst let Him die.
He cried to Thee from darkest day,
But only pain answered His cry.

Dark tears were shed, but all in vain,
For no one saw that He did cry;
There was no one to share His pain,
But all alone my Lord must die.

They tore His flesh, His hands, His feet;
What pain those nails to Him did bring;
But see in every sore heart-beat
The love that from these wounds does spring.

How can I understand the pain
That He did bear upon the tree?
But lest my life be all in vain,
Please let His love be found in me.

(07/09/87)
© W. J. Watterson