The Dove And Whitsuntide

                 
Falls white dove Father-sent on gentle wing,
Then Whitsuntide  with tongues of Spirit flame,
The upper room baptism, ennabling,
now fearless in faith preaching Jesus' name
Wth no silver, gold, they give what they can
The blind and the lame, sick and heart broken,
All healed, and so the fledgling church began
Under holy words of power spoken,
The foolishness of preaching bearing fruit,
The world drawing swords of persecution,
Who cut the leaf, but could not touch the root
And stem of Jessie, Sweet Absolution
Ran with gospel birthing one holy bride,
White gowned, many membered, rising world wide.