Morning slowly dawns
Creeping o’er the hills
Light casting shadows long
Upon the Place of the Skull
Where God died for salvation
And prophecy to fulfill
“Beauty!” Cries the frost
Glittering and gleaming still
Upon that precious cross
Where God so willed
His Son should died
That humanity may rise
“Beauty!” Cries the frost
And the frozen flowers reply
“All is lost, all is lost
The Savior’s blood is mixed with frost
Ai, ai, the Bridegroom is lost.”
Yet even as the frost melts
The Son shall rise
His heart as soft as silk
And fire in his eyes
HIs blood as sweet as milk
He died that no more may die
And frost is likened unto heaven
Beauty, at a mortal cost
The sabbath is the seventh
A reminder naught is lost
A flower, iced, dyes
A mortal for a loved one cries
Ai, ai, all that is mortal must died
And frost must be melted
And become one with the sky
The Christ true pain felt
And mortal death cannot lie
We were all, everyone, meant to rise.