You smiled at me a while ago
And I wondered what would be
When baby babble turned to speech
And you could talk with me.
Would we sit in a quiet room
With some old books between?
Or marvel in the Makers woods
At His power amid the green?
Yet tomorrow you may have no need
To see His glory in the trees.
For you may see the King Himself
Who I have longed to see.
Though a hundred labor long
To preserve the silver cord
What power or knowing is in man
To halt the Mighty Lord?
Many things may anguish cause
Exceeding ones own death
For would not many lose their own
To give a child breath?
But God has not ordained it so
To barter flesh for flesh.
One substitution he allowed
That His glory be not less.
And so to Him all things return.
And man is like the grass.
Earth-anguished now we worship
Until the time has passed.
To one lone truth, that God is good
Desperately we cling
Knowing all pains will be undone
When we meet the holy King.