Beloved Daughter of the King by Kai-Anne Clews

Oh, my sister, so many sisters, Throughout the ages, Oh loveless widow, Where is your husband? Oh, orphaned girl, Where is your father? You are both widow and orphan, People spit to say your name, Or see you, but “Truly,” He said, “Tax collectors and prostitutes are entering The Kingdom before you.” This will be to their shame; Who now hurt you, and swear at you, oh, my sister… A measure of a society Is how it treats its women. Oh, my sister, that charge is carved on you. Oh, how all society is measured by its neglect of you. I pray for the day, I can see you raised into glory, For He paid the same price, For virgins as for you. I long with all my heart To see you free of stain, To see you smile in victory, Your eternity to reclaim. That bright love of the Lord is yours, For you believed even at the preaching of John, At the very start, by the Baptismal shores. You were cleansed, And You were saved, From the indignity of the grave.