Young and radiant

Young and radiant, he is standing,
As he stood at salem’s shrine;
Just a lad, a lad forever,
With a look and grace divine!
“tell me, how it is ye sought me?
Wist ye not my Father’s plan?
I must be about his business,
Would I be a Son of man.”

I can see him humbly kneeling,
As he knelt upon the hill;
While the waters hushed their music,
And the night grew bright and still:
“brothers, tell me why ye sought me?
Wist ye not my Father’s plan?
He must grow in grace and wisdom,
Who would be a Son of man.”

Like a flame his soul is striking
In his wrath at greed and shame;
“ye have made a den of robbers
Of the temple to his name;
Know ye not his equal justice?
Wist ye not my Father’s plan?
He must bathe his sword in heaven
Who would be a Son of man.”

I can see him dying, loving
Unto death on calvary;
His dear hands still pleading, praying,
Worn and torn for you and me!
“brothers, will ye scorn and leave me?
Wist ye not my Father’s plan?
He must wear a crown of sorrow
Who would be a Son of man.”