When from sin we were first forgiven,
Asleep at the foot on frosty bed wake,
Look for locks to open the gates of heaven,
And change the sheet we take.
To hastily dress in graceful dignity,
And mortal things upon which are frown,
Lay in silent arbors to bequeath the clay,
Which made the dust our temporary home?
In walking, and talking, soon we’ll be taken,
Since we came into the world with nothing,
We inherited sin, but by grace we are given,
The hope to resurrect a new beginning.
Although death, subdue for a moments glow,
In resurrection this world will be renew,
And the weak will live; and rise, and grow,
Immortalize with wind and breath and dew.
Like a crusade wrought for a stately crown,
The transformation of life awaits humanity,
In breath that comes from every sound,
Resurrection opens the gates of prophecy.
Upon where earth lies spinning in space,
So high, that covering penance is meekly worn,
To translate the earthly crown for a fuller grace,
In the presence of God joy is happily worn.