Father and Shepherd, hide Thyself, awhile:
Long have I known Thee as a gentle God.
Close Thy green pastures; Thy still waters, stir;
And take Thy staff and rod.
Loose me a little from Thy leniency:
Burn in a bush, Oh, holy and austere;
Lift waves and wind, and let Thy comets speak;
I have a need of fear.
Rear Thy grey clouds like giant leaden pipes,
And touch not lightly on celestial keys:
Startle my ears, let heavenly organs play
Apalling harmonies.
Write upon space in sudden, dazzling script,
Words that I cannot read nor understand;
Then, awed, I’ll walk my quiet paths again;
Shaken, I’ll take Thy hand.