“Thy Glory”, a Poem

When Thy Shekinah glory fell,
The priests stood still in awe;
Nor could the great Apostle tell
The glory that he saw
When Thou didst lift him to the sky
To sights unseen by mortal eye.

When Moses stood with unshod feet
And Thy great Presence felt,
No trumpeter could call retreat
While gazing where Thou dwelt!
He listened, raptured by Thy voice,
And strangely did his heart rejoice.

The toilers’ fishing nets were left
In answer to Thy call,
And worldly men, of sense bereft
Before their feet would fall.
Those simple men Thou didst endue
With power original to You.

O Lord, we labor in a day
When men of faith are few.
Now just a remnant watch and pray.
Again we beg – endue
Thy church with apostolic power
For true revival in this hour.

Have we the holy channel blocked
With unbelief and sin?
Have we not asked and sought and knocked
To bring the glory in?
How is now Thy Spirit grieved
That He withholds the shower
That would revival tide bring in
And apostolic power?

Is Thy blest Holy Word unread?
And have we ceased to pray?
Have carnal longings in our hearts
Brought spiritual decay?
Come, great Physician, come,
And circumcise the heart;
Fleshly impediments remove
And all Thy might impart.

So let the beauty of the Lord
On Christians be outpoured,
That we forget our ministry,
And glorify the Lord.
We hate the boasting flesh
Which often claims Thy name.
Descend, Oh Holy Ghost, descend
With all Thy purging flame!

Leonard Ravenhill

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