Turn now Your wrath, O Lord away,
We are Your heritage;
Forget our sin, our iniquity,
Your Son’s our only pledge.
Your Church O Lord’s a wilderness,
Laid waste by shame and guilt;
Zion cries out to You for peace,
For us Your blood was spilt.
Your holy, lovely house of prayer,
Where once Your glory dwelt;
Burned up, consumed with raging fire,
Our hearts Lord come and melt.
O hold not back, sweet Holy Ghost,
Afflict us Lord no more;
Come stir, come wake, make us Your boast,
Your righteousness out-pour.
(Tune: Kilmarnock; Martyrdom; Belmont; CM)
(© James R Hamilton – Written, Saturday, November 6, 2004)