A poem for the fourth Sunday of Advent
Who will lift the shroud of night
heaven’s light fresh to reveal
overcome death’s with’ring blight
deign our wounded hearts to heal?
o Love ever-burning, now
each soul to Thyself restore
Son of righteousness, in pow’r
with justice reign forevermore
o Light shining in the dark
never to be overborne
dispose in us Thy holy spark
evince the fruit of endless morn
rise to adore the mystery —
Savior, by Thy face we see
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