Holy, Holy, Holy

August 13, 2013

How can I bring my voice to raise
A single word to thy praise
When my feet I cannot conceal enough
My face I cannot seal
From thy majesty, thy searing gaze
What word of hope is there for me
To reach thy ear in praise

Undone am I beneath your throne
I know no thing to lift me up
My soles are seared upon your ground
My eyes are blind and cannot watch
E’en the shadow of your passing
What breath of hope is there for me
To whisper among your hosts

My sin has poured upon thy fame
A tarnish I cannot remove
That were it washed before my eyes
At once I must expire
Have mercy on me o Adonai
What worth have I to thee
To fall under thy holy train

Despite this dearth of any good
In me that warrants thee
May thy name resound
Throughout my soul
By grace, mercy, Lord save me
Eternity rests in thee
Without thy cross my sin besets me

I saw the Lord sitting upon a throne, high and lifted up; and the train of his robe filled the temple. Above him stood the seraphim. Each had six wings: with two he covered his face, and with two he covered his feet, and with two he flew. And one called to another and said:
“Holy, holy, holy is the LORD of hosts;
the whole earth is full of his glory!”
And the foundations of the thresholds shook at the voice of him who called, and the house was filled with smoke. And I said: “Woe is me! For I am lost; for I am a man of unclean lips, and I dwell in the midst of a people of unclean lips; for my eyes have seen the King, the LORD of hosts!”
— Isaiah 6:1-5

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