Mother Clothed With The Sun
Clothed with a thousand silk-spun sunbeams, You shine down motherhood upon all earth, Twelve twinkling stars adorn your head, and gleams Of moonlight peak between your toes…
Clothed with a thousand silk-spun sunbeams, You shine down motherhood upon all earth, Twelve twinkling stars adorn your head, and gleams Of moonlight peak between your toes…
They had killed him. Our hopes had died On that barren hill, our redeeming King, Judged like a gangster and crucified, Israel’s dream they dead degraded fling…
The lamb born to be slain, alive once more, Springing over barbed wire of grave, The pale corpse frozen in agony raw, Thawed by the spirit’s quickening…
My sweet Jesus, no one can hurt you now Resting peacefully in your mother’s arms She holds you lovingly, wondering how They thought you could deserve all…
And so it ended, my fine old career, A bandit’s life is rarely a long one, Hung up on a gibbet for all to leer, My pleasures…
The cup of pain brought to my lips this night An ordained offering of bitter wine Tomorrow’s battle grips my stomach tight Dread and obedience in prayer…
Lamps burning low in the evening cold, In an upper room they sit down to eat, He washes clean their feet, love’s service told, Before their betrayal…