Octave of Pentecost

RED

Vestments of red

Altar cloth too

Martyrs who bled

Did this for you.

Gold Tabernacles

Veiled in red's hue

Martyrs in shackles

Hung for this view.

Red mums full bloomed

In water and brass

Martyrs consumed

Burned for this Mass.

Red rays of sun

Rose-streak the nave

Their suf'ring done

Now red we must crave!