The Son Also Rises
Picks up the whole horizon, how can it not
The weight of the world, wood, and wild
Sits upon its very shoulders, that is its lot
To blaze and burn, its nature is far from mild
The leaves, rocks, and rivers are on fire
A golden thread it weaves through the world
A world of darkness, lifted from the mire
Land of shadow and night, utterly unfurled
The heat of worlds, gently upon the shoulder rests
The sun, at the birth of each day, will rise
Clothes the world in light, where all nature nests
The sun, day by day, shall not know demise
Night’s shadow has swiftly descended
The Son wanders cold halls of darkness
But the day is not so quickly ended
Breaks the night with His glory in starkness
Picks up the whole horizon, how can He not
The weight of sin, engulfed in mercy mild,
Sat upon His shoulders, without a second thought
To seek and save, His nature is gentle and mild
The day breaks forth, as if set on fire
A scarlet thread weaves through the world
A world of darkness, lifted from the mire
Land of shadow and sin, utterly unfurled
The sin of the world upon His shoulders will rest
The Son, at the birth of third day, will rise
Clothes the world in light, O, we are blest
That the Son, day by day, shall not know demise
For on that third day did the Son also rise
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