The Almighty Shepherd

It rings through the air,
With awesome power,
With beauty and pulse and might.

For no such splendour
has touched the sky
since that first fateful sunrise.

Did speak its name
And make its cry
On the blissful crimson sky.

Like saccharine honey,
deep as the ocean,
abounding in nature’s sweetness,

The blessed angelic choir
Does sing life’s cry
with a beautiful, powerful discreetness.

Near a whisper,
Yet close to a bellow
which powers over mountains,

A thousand voices,
which sound as one,
do triumph youth’s folly fountain.

For like a serpent,
which lies in wait,
appearing like a flower,

Youth’s curse does bite
and poisons and kills
with greed and envy and power.

But what of this holy army,
of warriors and angels,
bright fearful like the Sun,

Which triumphs over evil, |
and outshines the darkness,
‘till the forces of the world are dead and gone?

And who is their commander,
that silent force,
who sings and cries and shouts aloud,

Who shepherds his flock,
and guides his people,
through the desolate mists of an evil swound?

Surely He,
this almighty shepherd, whose peace abounds like a dove,

Conducts his mighty choir
with amazing grace,
undying mercy,
and true, unending love.