Tuesday, 13 August 2013
Marred; weak; afar; with the opprobrium
Of the rejected race... to catalogue
My blemishes would take too long; in sum
Encompass all in three words - “a dead dog”.
Mercy has reached me; grace has brought me near;
Kindness has given me a prince’s seat
And riches; perfect love has cast out fear:
The King Himself has made my bliss complete.
So if He is rejected in this world,
And the rebellious challenge has been hurled:
“We will not have this Man to reign”, should I
Follow that trend? Surely I must deny
Myself, and, till my Sovereign comes again,
Live in the consciousness that “He must reign”.