When mercy reached from heav'n to earth, forgiveness stretched out east to west, the grass that springs up from the dirt grew to a garden of the blest. The barren ground of Calvary now bears an ever-blooming rose. The gates of Eden swinging free encompass every flow'r that grows. And we who sprang up with the dawn to wither in the gath'ring dusk find that we blossom on and on, bear fruit that overflows the husk. How can it be that we should bear the grain of heav'n from earthly roots unless the vine, with tender care, entwines itself about our shoots? O mercy, come to soak the ground and drench the furrows where we sleep. The heav'nly love that you pour down will wash and wake the fallen seeds. O Christ the blossom, Christ the vine, transform the grasses into trees where all the birds their shelter find within the living shade of peace.
Holy church Maria of the Castle, Olivenza (Spain) By José Luis Filpo Cabana – Own work, CC BY 3.0, https://commons.wikimedia.org/w/index.php?curid=44932624
Kate Bluett 