TYPE
What cry is this from lonely field,
what blood upon the ground?
What hands are these that raise a stone
to strike a brother down?
——
Death has dawned upon the world,
through sin it came to pass.
Once living root, now deadened stump,
a wicked branch to cast.
——
God’s face is hid from Adam’s seed,
a cursed man is he,
to walk the Earth not knowing God,
too great to bear indeed!
——
How deep the plunge of man’s first fall,
that sons inherent sin!
With each new start, a stoney heart,
what hope is there for him?

ANTITYPE
What cry is this from Bethlehem,
what light in Galilee?
What hands are these that raise the dead
and cause the blind to see?
——
A hope has dawned upon the world,
a promise comes to pass.
A living shoot, from deadened stump,
a righteous branch at last.
——
God’s face is hid from Adam’s seed,
who bears the curse of sin.
He walked the Earth as God himself
and died, He died for men!
——
How high the cost of man’s first fall!
God’s son atones for sin,
and gives anew a fleshy heart,
to never die again.