How fitting it was, that God
would take atom’s shape; lay to sleep
the death brought to life in skin.
How weak the men had, a hand at law
barely with the strength to keep
alive a love at all
But here new strength was founded;
everything beneath a crown
and we a smile at our subjection
as organs for the body of
Sanctification, from one source;
holy brothers to the Head
laughing unashamed as he treads
salvation like blood, soaking a strong right arm
that has and still shall lift
the grave from its solemn rest.
Oh, how fitting it is
that the bone of his bone,
and flesh of his flesh
will stand in together once again!
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