Tuesday, April 23 - Evening
A 'white and ruddy' lamb there stands
Expressing how He capture'd all man's
Souls, the crimson mem'ry of a fight
Where white with innocence
He showed a light,
And wooed our sorry souls
With glories odd more fair than gold
Bright diadem, what's made from thorns
Our victor only, these has worn.
Rev 5.6









