DEAR ONES
When in death our dear ones sleep,
Our souls by grief encumbered,
Hope bears on though yet we weep;
Deaths' days are surely numbered.
Christ did lay His body down,
To deaths’ demands submitted,
Drank the cup, wore mocking crown;
For this end was He fitted.
The prison doors oppressing
He unlocked, threw open wide.
To live once more, the blessing,
Yet, a while they must abide.
A while we, too, must wait
Resurrection day to see,
Though we pass beyond life’s gate,
In due time we shall go free.
For Eternal is His name.
Sweet became the bitter cup,
When on death He staked His claim
As He took His body up.
Death’s grip at last confounded,
No sad tears to wet our eyes,
Our joy will thrive unbounded,
When in life our dear ones rise.
© Summer Owens
