1 O Lamb of God, that tak’st away
Our sin, and bidd’st our sorrow cease,
Turn Thou, oh, turn this night to day,
Grant us Thy peace.
2 The troubled world hath war without;
The restless, wayward heart within
Hath fear and weariness and doubt,
And death and sin.
3 And there are needs that none can know,
And tears no eye but Thine can see;
Hopes naught can satisfy below;
We look to Thee.
4 ’Tis not the calm, deceitful dream
That earth calls peace, we ask for now;
No dropping down the fatal stream
With careless prow.
5 Probe deep the wound if so Thou wilt,
If pain must wake us. Purge our dross:
Help us to lay our load of guilt
Beneath Thy cross.
6 That we amid the toil and strife
And storms that never end below,
Through all the change and chance of life,
Thy peace may know.
7 The peace that is not ours but Thine—
O, safe and true and deathless thus—
’Gainst which all storms in vain combine;
Grant, grant to us.
Source: The Cyber Hymnal #8339