All I Ask

What I asked of you yesterday

            you still have not done;

What I asked of you before

            you never will do:

I asked of you the worldly,

            but the world you wouldn’t give;

I asked of you the tangible,

            but things you would not yield;

I asked of you the fleshly,

            but flesh you wouldn’t betray;

I asked of you the terrestrial,

            but the dust and clay you’ve kept.

What I ask of you today

            you still delay to do;

What I ask of you this moment

            my heart still must prove:

I no longer ask for the flesh,

            nor for worldly things;

I no longer seek the earth,

            nor that which leads below;

Instead I look to the soul,

            and all that dwells inside;

Instead I ask your forgiveness

            for all I sought before.

What I’ll ask of you tomorrow

            you have already done;

What I’ll ask of you for eternity

            you have already given:

I will ask of you your mercy,

            oh, to feel your grace;

I will ask of you your heavens,

            oh, to see your face;

I will ask of you your vision,

            all you’re dreaming of;

I will ask of you your perfect,

            ever-lasting love.