I told you years and years ago,
Thrice to Abraham and Co.,
Renewed to Isaac, Jacob, Joe,
Isiah and the seers of woe,
To David who took sling, not bow;
This message is to friend and foe.
I’ll tell you yet again, although,
You may have heard. Now go and sow,
My gospel to the gentiles low,
So that to me they all will flow,
to worship me forever. So…
Why stand you gazing there?
– yea, Go!
The king returned, in power rise,
To don again his earthly guise.
The women took the herald’s call,
And ran to town to tell men all.
Some others saw the King appear,
At first they fell and quaked with fear,
But now they to the rebels fly,
to make quick gains and sell a lie.
The rulers and the soldiers leave,
The King – their King they should receive.
The King instead from local towns,
Raised men from those who would bow down.
Untrained and lay, yet faithful still,
That sword-less army on the hill.
They stood to listen and obey,
The marching-orders He would say.
Zion burned, the priests abased.
Barbarians laid Rome to waist.
The others, lowly, lord-filled, men,
Survived to preach His words again.