For Ash Wednesday

These ashes marked upon the brow in strokes both dark and fine--

No lightning bolt, no magic spell found in this cross of mine.

But what, then, does this marking do? These faces that I’ve seen

Marked with that sooty, smudgy cross; what do these ashes mean?

They tell me I’m a child of God, yet made of dust and clay,

And that in time this mortal form returns to dust some day.

And yet the cross reminds me, too, this life is not in vain;

That any day lived in my Lord is never loss, but gain.

Though years be short, and life be quick to flee our feeble hold,

Oh, let me live in God’s good will in years both young and old,

And when this mortal body takes its final, dusty rest,

My soul will not be without hope, but be forever blessed.

TEXT: Charles Spence Freeman, 2014
MUSIC: Tune: CAITHNESS, Scottish Psalter, 1635