A New Song: Psalm 96

How many are the songs to sing
    Of how your nature’s beauty rings?

Already many have been sung
    The bells of beauty have been rung.

Yet all the beauty that I see
    Is but a shadow cast by thee.

This finite earth and space above
    Are darkened spots cast by your love.

The trees, the plains, the mountains grand
    Are naught compared to your strong hand.

The leaf, the grass, the flower small
    Are hints of new life for us all.

But songs of beauty that are near
    Turn quickly old—that’s what I fear.

That even though these songs are true,
    They’re old, for they sing not of you.

They sing not of your sacrifice
    And how you rescue men from vice.

They sing not of eternal God
    Nor how you help men through life plod,

Nor the Spirit’s holy fire
    Lifting lowly souls up higher.

They only sing of nature’s ways
    But not you of the ancient days.

The songs you want my voice to lift
    Are of your great salvation gift,

New songs of how you make men pure
    And of your steadfast love that’s sure,

New songs with words of righteousness
    And songs that sing of holiness.

Lord, help me sing eternal verse
    Before all men your love rehearse.

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