In silent awe the seven angels dare, Approach the throne and golden altar fire, And one, with smoke of incense offers prayer For all the saints and souls who Him desire. For joy, the hills break forth in singing And all the trees of the field clap their hands. Seas roar, earth buds, stars fall, and healing Waters rush across the desert lands While hundreds of thousands with psalters Learn the new song that only they can sing Taught by heav’n—a voice of rolling waters And of thunder and of harpers harping— And cast their crowns before the great I Am, Echoing, “Worthy, worthy is the Lamb.”
Lovely poem, Beth! Thanks much for sharing this gift with us.