It is with some trepidation that I prepare to leave for Palm Sunday services. Rarely can I last through the entire thing without crying. Palm Sunday is just so emotional to me. The hymn (which counts as poetry) which always gets to me, as much as I remember of it, and I don’t have time to look it up right now:
All glory, laud and honor to thee redeemer king,
To whom the lips of children made sweet hosannas ring….
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