I could cheerfully jump up and down.
And jeer at you, and your righteous frown,
and your tightly clenched fists.
And if only Hell was real,
I should freely hate you and your men,
and call down God's wrath upon you, then
praise myself for all my zeal.
If Hell had not been undone,
then I'd come to you, with pride I'd swell,
and guilt-free, tell you to go to Hell,
and still be my Father's son.
Yes, if Hell's triumph was true,
I'd celebrate when you bite the dust,
and not suspect that someday I must
meet our Lord, and with Him, you!
But Hell will not exist as such.
So we forgive, for they do not know.
We trust that to Him all things must go.
And we await His healing touch.
