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I would sing the song of Thy Love, oh Lord,
to tune men’s hearts, to fine accord.
A song of sounds to surrender
to Thy might so strong and so tender.
Hear, oh heart, the harmony
right through this world’s cacophony:
in the sounds of the city,
in the voice full of pity,
on the factory floor,
through the office door,
from the hammer in hand,
raindrops in the sand.
Even the voice’s anger,
the war’s mad clanger,
command our awe:
they express Thy Law.
Oh voice full of bliss and tenderness,
sound strong and sever selfishness.
Verena Watson