Righteous, O Lord, Are All Thy Ways!

Righteous

O Lord

are all Thy ways!

Thy judg­ments in the an­cient days

On un­re­pent­ing sin­ners fell;

Thy wrath des­cend­ed

in a flood

On a whole world that knew not God

And swept their thought­less souls to hell.

Yet in the uni­vers­al wreck

Thou didst a kind ex­cept­ion make

In fa­vor of a child of Thine:

Thou didst for him an ark pro­vide

And safe­ly with his house­hold hide

The heir of right­eous­ness di­vine.

Thou art in ev­ery age the same

And when our crimes the ven­geance claim

And when our mea­sure is filled up;

Thine an­ger yet again shall burn

And force them who Thy mer­cies spurn

To drink the bit­ter trem­bling cup.

Thou

Lord

out of Thy place shalt rise

Open the win­dows of the skies

To plague the peo­ple of Thine ire

Thy flam­ing min­is­ters em­ploy

And ter­ri­bly at last de­stroy

The wick­ed with a flood of fire.

Great God

if now Thy day is near

Alarm us with a sac­red fear

And snatch from a de­vot­ed race

A world

who

as Thy Son fore­told

Harden their hearts like those of old

And live cor­rupt in all their ways.

They eat

they drink

they plant

they build

Their hearts

with cares and plea­sures filled

No room can find for thoughts of Thee

Till the last dread­ful plagues com­mence

And sweep their care­less spir­its hence

Into a sad eter­ni­ty.

But wilt Thou not Thine own se­cure?

The men

who great dis­tress en­dure

And cru­el mock­ings for Thy sake

Who trem­ble at Thy to­kens nigh

And to the ark of mer­cy fly

And Je­su’s wounds their re­fuge make!

Surely Thou wilt Thy word ful­fill

And give Thy cau­tioned people still

Within the sac­red ark to rest;

E’en now by faith we en­ter in

And mount above the floods of sin

Secure in our Re­deem­er’s breast.

Superior to the storms be­low

The va­ri­ous storms of hu­man woe

Shut up in Christ we mount

we rise

Buoyed by His migh­ty Spir­it up

Above the highe­st mount­ain’s top

Above the rui­ned earth

and skies.

When earth and skies are all on fire

We then shall mount di­vine­ly high­er

As by Eli­jah’s whirl­wind driv’n

Triumphant o’er the blaz­ing flood

The Church

and fa­mi­ly of God

Our ark and we shall rest in Heav’n.