O God, I stand
Half in, half out of every laughing crowd
And strain to smile,
The lost on either hand-
With rising guilt, I hear them scoff aloud
From bitter mouths which mock the terror that chokes-
See death behind their camouflage of jokes-
A little while, and all these faces glad
Are cloaked in dust- frail shadows slip away.
Their smiles are horror, their endless laughter mad,
And I condemned, who met them but in play
And warned them not- my fingers seared with blood.
They would not heed a Jeremiad cry-
Or would they heed?- Lord teach me what to say!
How can I bear that judgment should destroy
These hungry souls- my silence is a lie
And hides Your truth- O, spur me on to pray,
Your yearning love, and living Word employ,
That some of these should not forever die-
That You'd supplant their mockery with Joy!
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