EASTER WINGS (Author Unknown)

Lord, who created man in wealth and store,

Though foolishly he lost the same,
Decaying more and more,
Till he became
Most poor:
With Thee
O let me rise
As larks, harmoniously,
And sing this day Thy victories:
Then shall the fall further the flight in me.

(So thankful for a beautiful friend
who gave this great poem to me!)