Some, dark and dreary,
'fraid of new things, quite leary.
Myths, all quite eerie!
Escape! Clouds on high?
Oh, dead faith; 'twill hardly try
We're not made to fly!
Bitter compromise.
Where is Word of the Son's rise?
Instead, feed on lies?
Who opened that door?
Oh, Paul's blessed metaphor?
No, Darby's lil' bore!
He is appearing,
wise and tender; His steering
The Day is nearing!
'In the beginning' of this fresh new Way.
Light came from darkness, eternity to stay
Unfolding! Surprising! Like Shakespeare's play.
Father - keep us and mold us as clay
Son - come quickly; seize the day!
Spirit - comfort,teach and weigh
This is what we pray.
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