THE touches of man’s modern speech
Perplex her unacquainted tongue;
There seems through all her songs a sound
Of falling tears. She is not young.
Within her eyes’ profound arcane
Resides the glory of her dreams;
Behind her secret cloud of hair
She sees the Is beyond the Seems.
Her heart sole-towered in her steep spirit,
Somewhat sweet is she, somewhat wan;
And she sings the songs of Sion
By the streams of Babylon.

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Ordained Servant: February 2014

Worship Song

Also in this issue

Democracy and the Denigration of Office, Part 2

The Israelites Were Not Exclusive Psalmists (Nor Are We)

God’s Lyrics by Douglas Sean O’Donnell

God’s Astounding Grace by D. Scott Meadows (Briefly Noted)

How Jesus Runs the Church by Guy Prentiss Waters

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