The River: Psalm 67

Vast blessings do you pour on men,
    We often think them fine.
But evil is the heart that then
    Wants all them to be mine.

We spend them for desires vast,
    Our pleasures always soar,
And when we use them to the last
    We turn and ask for more.

But does it ever cross our mind
    These gifts are not for me?
I wonder if we’ll someday find
    You’ve given them for thee?

You give us gifts to share your name
    To all your peoples here,
To spread through all the earth your fame
    So all to you draw near.

We are a river, not a pond,
    Through us your gifts should flow.
And what you send should point beyond
    So you can all men know.

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