Where the yardstick that makes God stoop beneath the rod?
Where the scales that God has weighed?
Can you divide His majesty by grade?
He walked on waters and a stormy sea made calm.
Ask HIM who did those things,
yet rode a donkey's foal, no rein in palm.
King o'er wave and sea and desert waste,
He washed men's feet with a towel at his waist!
Alexander, Caesar, Napoleon--
there's no victory like His they ever won!
He hung upon a Cross and bled--
His Father's will obeyed in full, the Gospels said.
All round His nail-scared hands and feet
shines a glory to make Satan spit teeth in defeat.
See those flowers blooming wild?--
No gardener but God for care.
Or those clouds magnificently piled?
Gasp at heaven in the face of a child,
then take your yardstick, friend, if you dare.
