May be a year, an hour away:
Were but a new Elijah found
To shake the earth with mighty sound!
Would that his voice called all as one
To turn from sin and kiss the Son!
Or of the harvest's hewing axe?
What John prepares us, lest we burn
When, unexpected, You return?
Who, having raised the hurtful rod,
Points out the healing Lamb of God?
What fisherman, forsaking all,
Lays down his nets and heeds Your call?
What shepherd, for one straying sheep,
Combs thorny heath and canyon deep?
Who bears reproof and suffers loss,
Despising all things but the cross?
For such Elijahs, Lord, we plead:
O hear us in our humble need!
Confuse the devil's thousand arts;
Unto their babes turn parents' hearts,
And our rebellious ones make wise,
A people righteous in Your eyes!
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