Worship is from the heart. The heart of man
though wicked, still will worship what he sees
A lust for anything the eye can scan
Or hold within his avaricious span
The dark'ning gloomy shadows of the trees.
Within that gloom, man's evil trade his aim
And all the world is captivated by
the thought of wealthiness, great power and fame
Where all revere and recognise a name
Except the One that they would crucify.
His life of love, for once this world would know
A perfect Man, His life poured out for all
His suffering, His pinioned hands, His woe
At last, an answer to sin's overflow
The Blood was shed and at His feet we fall.
Name above every name, we worship Him
No other altar can we serve, and now
We worship Who we know, filled to the brim
His Spirit floods the heart with Heaven's hymn
And Heaven's Land, where every knee will bow.
Woe to the rebellious children, saith the Lord, that take counsel, but not of
Me; and that cover with a covering, but not of My Spirit, that they may
add sin to sin: …This is a rebellious people, lying children, children
that will not hear the law of the Lord…