In silence reigns the early light
Ere clement fowl declare it come.
The wistful brush of morning tide:
Love hath none beside.
The lonely leave of evening time
As sunlight flees the earth,
Still remnant golden hues abide:
Love hath none beside.
Broken, scarred, and held to death -
Of sorrow, we lack none.
Yet Christ He came, for much He died:
Love hath none beside.
- J. P. Antonios