1 April, 2018
If we could rise with thee oh Christ! On Easter morn
Full of promise to a changed life reborn.
Thy humiliation, rebuffs and scourges, the jeers the pain
of Good Friday will not have been in vain.
But frail are we, the spirit’s willing Lord, the flesh is weak
Umpteenth our falls, to thy outstretched hands we reach.
Like Faustus scream, one drop would save our souls.
Drop on drop of mercy, but no change in our wayward souls.
Through the agony of a Good Friday, comes the triumph of an Easter morn
It’s by dying to ourselves, that to a new life we were reborn
This the perennial implication of Easter-tide
Christ the Resurrection, the Truth and the Life.