When the hands of my clock
Cripple and their fingers halt
My soul, with you, will walk
Singing your name to exalt
When the tongues of fire set
At my front yearn and cry out,
Probing me to pay the debt
Of sin with nothing but doubt,
I will call upon Your name,
Knowing Your loving-kindness
Still shelters me the same
For You, my Christ, I confess.
The spirit of death bows down
As all kneel before Your throne.
©1916-ref-Poetizer
©vicwise
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