O, guard me, Lord, from creeping doubt,
From questioning which sinks into
Recrimination- keep without
All thought which severs me from You.
Protect me, You, the Living Word
From the rebellious Dark which strove,
Crushing all sense of hope assured,
And cast its shadow over Love.
Father, the night is skulking nigh
To You I flee with faltering faith
You are the full and fair reply
Unto the snarling howls of death.
You are the fortress, and the Hill
Yours is the shield, the mighty arm
Perfect and flawless is Your will-
Shelter Your servant's soul from harm-
Shelter Your servant, grant relief;
Silence the shrieking chords of grief.
Monday, November 9, 2009
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