A light that burns so truly bright,
daughter borne of burning Truth.
She is learning to love what's right.
Her speech and deeds bear the proof.
She is growing, rejoicing in Christ,
eyes fixed upon her High Priest.
She left the world, embraced the Life,
knowing Whom she's believed.
Princess with a word fitly spoken,
I can say she is to me.
I see in her a beauty broken,
witnessing her breaking free.
Gladly I will point her out.
I will say, "She's my sister!"
Christ in me will thus shout,
for Grace, I've seen, has thus kissed her.
She breathes His Word with love and fear,
calling to mind unearthly wisdom.
She expects it to bring her cheer,
love has come from the Kingdom.
She's becoming like her name:
anointed to be a slave of Christ.
Her life attests to His fame.
She's been bought with a costly price.
Hail the high-borne Prince of Peace.
She'll hail with you how He's been true.
For she is saved to the least,
and He will be the first to tell you.