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Christ my passion.
My passion is sore vexed
Every attraction and distraction annexed
Her fury is a wasteful pestilence
And her intent is violence.
Even if suitors beg her affection
My passion shall show no compassion
Until like gold purified
My soul sanctified.
When my disobedience be gone
And my obedience done
Then shall righteousness be my frock
And Holiness my cloak
My passion is a blazing thermo
Like a consuming inferno
Her fiery heat scorches the air
The sound of her sparks cracks the ear
My passion burns up my impurities
Blotting out my iniquities
She dries up my transgressions…
Nullifying the accusations
Leaving in its wake a heart contrite
And a spirit at respite
Until naught but ashes of righteousness
… And residues of holiness
When Christ my passion.
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