RED-ROBIN OF
GOOD
FRIDAY NOON
I sat upon my back porch step
One dark Good Friday noon
And saw a robin red-breast rest
To sing a soft sad tune.
The melody it brought me tears
As damp cool winds blew by.
My soul it felt the stab of spears...
My sins that made Him die.
But robin of Good Friday noon
Your blood-red breast reminds...
That we must stop...confess our sins
Now death...she holds no binds.
And when on dark Good Friday noons
Red-breasted robin sings,
Confess your sins at Sacrament
And sprout red-robin wings.
I sat upon my back porch step
One dark Good Friday noon
And saw a robin red-breast rest
To sing a soft sad tune.
The melody it brought me tears
As damp cool winds blew by.
My soul it felt the stab of spears...
My sins that made Him die.
But robin of Good Friday noon
Your blood-red breast reminds...
That we must stop...confess our sins
Now death...she holds no binds.
And when on dark Good Friday noons
Red-breasted robin sings,
Confess your sins at Sacrament
And sprout red-robin wings.
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