It’s Friday....and the cold, dark shadows

Fall across a weary land;

Lengthening, at last those shadows

Rest upon a bleeding hand.

Friday.....and the storm He silenced

Falls with fury on the earth!

Friday.....can this be the payment

Needed for my second birth?

Friday...will it last forever

Can the world e’er be the same?

Have they washed away forever

E’en the trace of Jesus’ name?

Friday...and the evening shadows

Steal within my aching soul;

Friday, with despair, depression

Telling me I am not whole.

All my hope seems dead forever,

Then within my silent gloom

Shine a far and distant glimmer -

Is it coming from a tomb?

Sunday’s coming! All those shadows

Will be flooded with His light!

Sunday’s sure!...and Heav’n rejoices

As they see the garden sight!

Sunday! - Oh, my heart is flying!

Yes! The victory is won!

Sunday! Sunday! We are victors

For the work on Friday done!

Joan Clifton Costner

All Rights Reserved.


The Library


Awards Two