Turn now Thy wrath, O Lord away,
We are Thine heritage;
Forget our sin, our iniquity,
Thy Son’s our only pledge.

Thy Church O Lord’s a wilderness,
Laid waste by shame and guilt;
Zion cries out to Thee for peace,
For us Thy blood was spilt.

Thy holy, lovely house of prayer,
Where once Thy 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 Thy boast,
Thy righteousness out-pour.

(Tune: Sphor; Ballerma: CM)
(© James R Hamilton, Written, Saturday, November 6, 2004)