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Born in Rome-ruled Israel, He came in all humility,
Son of the Highest, though He be, submitting to His Father’s will.

As mortal, He was subject to temptation, hunger, suffering.
Rejected by His own, though king, He received homage from so few.

In the night He pleaded sorely He might not have to partake
Dread suffering. Yet for our sake, the Lamb, though sinless, all sins bore.

Meek, His peace He held through trials. Enraged mobs cried, “Crucify,”
Condemning Him, that He must die. Though faultless, He made no denials.

On a barren hill uncharted, high they raised Him on a cross,
Where, from depths of pain, forgiveness ushered from His broken heart..

As God’s Son, He wrought a victory over death. No endless sleep
Is ours. Though mortal, we will reap a blessed immortality.

He, our dear and loving friend, gives us in every hour of life
Faith to pass through sorrow and strife, peace and love that never end.