Poetry

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(2-29-04)

Once more I’m struck
By my Holy Muse,
The One who regained me
From the carnal ruse.

I sing my God,
Who took my stripes;
Who gained my freedom
In the Life of all lives.
My lovely Lord,
Who so loves my soul,
My very Song,
My heart’s sole extol.

Your blood’s my wine,
For my wretched matter.
You gave your body,
Laid on Satan’s platter.
In his evil rage,
He thought he had won.
Impugned, he soon learned,
By God’s only Son.

Your flesh is my food,
My manna from heaven;
Unleavened bread
To cleanse me from leaven.
Death’s lost its sting,
And is at Your command.
By same death I’ll come
To Your holy land.

O’ dear, great Father,
With heart to beseech,
Your Son has loosed me
From my sin’s leech.
I am for naught,
Yet You chose me;
Beckoned my life
By Your prize on the tree.

I am brought down,
Set to reset;
To recommit my life;
To serve and not fret.

O’ righteous Lord,
Set my life’s pace;
Conform my life,
To stand in Your grace.

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