High and Holy, Lord of stars Sea and open plain I worship You with farmer’s plow With fields of standing grain My fruit is borne in grief and pain Through blood and sweat and tears Dear Manger Boy, Emmanuel The night the earth stood still The hay You laid Your head upon My sacrifice fulfilled And when Your precious blood was spilled My hay did drink it up How long I waited, Timeless One Who pardons blood stained hands Sure death deserved by killing You Whose blood my death demands Let blood be reckoned in the cross Where curse for curse was lain Upon the perfect lamb of God Who for my sin was slain And let my harvest multiply As seeds fall to the ground Like James and Paul and Peter Who till death were faithful found Whose message “Christ!” does still resound In children of the faith O, let my heart bleed forth their blood Upon my fields of grain Upon the souls for whom Christ died And bore our sin and shame That fields of wheat might then proclaim “New Abel’s blood redeemed!”
Posted on: Sun, 30 Jun 2013 12:44:15 +0000