My Weeping King

Beneath an evening deep December sky,
A sparrow sings to weeping Father fair-
‘Pass not this cup my love for when you die,
To live and love will all your name declare.
My Father, O the Son he sent to save,
Your blood and tears and sorrow not in vain.
This loving act, this sacrifice you gave,
So beautiful in what we stand to gain.’
‘O lovely sparrow, perched in joyful song,
My tears like blood drop not for my own fall.
I weep for those who in my heart belong,
But listen not upon that day I call.’
‘O mourning Father, endless shall I sing,
This tale of tears and love, my weeping King.’