Part II: The Ode of the Saints

O if hope crumbles, that it turns tears into sand
Thou shalt find His Majesty, stretching out his mighty hand

Let the Great I Am remove, the dirt mixed from thy tears
Unto his glory shall yield thee, till the end of thy years

O in Thy courts, we find, the rest so desperately sought
Bestow Thy vindication that Thou hath lovingly bought

Thou giveth roses without thorns, a bridge without nails
Giving Thy warm breath of life, as death’s sting fails

Now, let us bask in Thy sweet fold of heaven’s light
Thou my highest Word, Thy wisdom that restored my sight

Naught indeed, but the Son’s love, is undeterred to save!
I, ever with thee, and Thy Spirit of Fire I crave!

Grateful we are! Thou living water, the Prince of Peace
Thou hath cometh, so that endless thirst may cease

For once and for all; for us, he was laid
Let us rejoice with glee, for it is free, none paid!