The forerunner is born. The tongue
once dumb
Is loosed again to speak with
glory-praise;
And all around must question, “What
is this
That God has caused such wonders in
our days?”
Lord, in this hour, loose my
silenced tongue,
My “tact” that is nine-tenths all
cowardice,
That measures words to match the
social cloth,
And never says a sentence out of
place.
Let me admit my fears, my shames,
my fails:
All the forgiven things that show
your grace;
But let me also say how you have
healed,
Have lifted up my head and washed
my face.
Let me proclaim you are the only
God,
And no created being shares your
throne.
Infinite mercy? Yes! But still the
Lord,
And every knee must bow to you
alone.
Let me admit your kingdom’s
shearing truth
The sword that cuts through to the very
heart
The measure that you measure we
must own,
And walk in light and bear our
faithful part.
But let me speak, first, above all,
supreme
Of Jesus and the death he died for
me,
Died in my place so I might live in
him.
Lord, take this craven tongue and
set it free!
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