Mercy
Mercy.
Mercy, mercy my O my,
A plaintiff cry I hear,
And relief when I sigh,
Free of all my fear.
On a far-off mountainside,
Far o’er hill and dale,
Where I let my heart reside,
Far beyond the pale.
Lift me don’t let me down,
Whisper in my ear,
For the king will wear the crown,
The motif is very clear.
It’s like the angels singing,
Hosanna in the sky,
And the church bells ringing,
As the heavens cry.
An echo in deep valleys,
Relief from suffering,
In and out of alleys,
The gifts the lord will bring.
In a chapel on our knees,
The hymns and organ sing,
Fire and brimstone on the breeze,
My ears still ring.
There’s something close to an eclipse,
The clouds part and resound,
The tenderness of a kiss,
Is something rare I’ve found.
There’s music in the morning mist,
And movement in the air,
Floats on by I might have missed,
While others stop and stare.
©
David Rudder
2023
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