SONNET / ACROSTIC
Gentle Spirit, Son, and Almighty Lord --
Onrushing wind blown across the wide Earth
Debts we owed Thee, more than we could afford
Are paid in full since the Day of your birth.
Not a hair on our heads is uncounted
Do not hide Thy grace from us, gentle King
army is mounted
Men shall moan when Thy harvest is counted
And Thy glory is praised from East to West
No sight to see shall be like Thee that day!
Justice shall deliver those Thou hast blessed --
Each according to his faith, on that Day
So it is written, so it will be done
Under the will of the Father and Son
So it is written; Let Thy Kingdom come.