I would hear the gushing of the mountain spring
when there would be droughts elsewhere,
dwindle to a mere finger of crystal clear water,
for more than a moment.
(and as this was Wales, that was often),
to a roaring curtain of water.
around the old iron trough.
where it is said baptism's used to occur,
the golden leaves fallen on the water floated lazily,
be-lying the movement of the water rising
deep from the earth below.
It made me think how some times
Loving kindness as the flood
When the Prince of life, our ransom
Shed for us His precious blood
Who His love will not remember?
Who can cease to sing His praise?
He can never be forgotten
Throughout Heaven’s eternal days.
On the Mount of Crucifixion
Fountains opened deep and wide
Through the floodgates of God’s mercy
Flowed a vast and gracious tide
Grace and love, like mighty rivers
Poured incessant from above
And Heaven’s peace and perfect justice
Kissed a guilty world in love
This video is rather old and grainy but
recorded in the valleys from whence the song arose.
He is Risen!
He is Risen indeed!
May You Know the Tide of His Love
in It's Fullest this Easter.