Lo, The Winter Is Past


’Come!’ The word of invitation,
Bade me hasten to the fearsome throne.
‘Now!’ The sword of condemnation,
Close above my wretched head hangs down.

‘Reason seek,’ said the Lord my God,
Justice strikes fast at the crimson blot.
‘Christ has full-borne the judgment rod.’
‘His blood washes clean the deepest spot.’

From scarlet shades to whitest hue;
My sins transformed by the dazzling Son.
His glaring gaze made all anew;
The snow melts away with my all ruin.

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