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Hymn/Song Information

O THOU THAT HEAREST PRAYER

Thou, God, art a consuming fire,
Yet mortals may find grace,
From toil and tumult to retire,
And meet thee face to face.

Though “holy, holy, holy, Lord!”
Seraph to seraph sings,
And angel-choirs, with one accord,
Worship, with veiling wings;—

Though earth thy footstool, heaven thy throne,
Thy way amidst the sea,
Thy path deep floods, they steps unknown,
Thy counsels mystery:—

yet wilt thou look on him who lies
A suppliant at thy feet;
And hearken to the feeblest cries
That reach thy mercy-seat.

Between the cherubim of old
Thy glory was expressed;
But God, through Christ, we now behold
In flesh made manifest.

Through him who all our sickness felt,
Who all our sorrows bare,
Through him in whom thy fulness dwelt
We offer up our prayer.

Touched with a feeling of our woes,
Jesus, our High Priest stands;
All our infirmities he knows,
Our souls are in his hands.

He bears them up with strength divine,
When at thy feet we fall;
Lord, cause thy face on us to shine;
Hear us,—on thee we call.