Friday   It’s Friday....and the cold, dark shadows Fall across a weary land; Lengthening, at last those shadows Rest upon a bleeding hand. Friday.....and the storm He silenced Falls with fury on the earth! Friday.....can this be the payment Needed for my second birth? Friday...will it last forever Can the world e’er be the same? Have they washed away forever E’en the trace of Jesus’ name? Friday...and the evening shadows Steal within my aching soul; Friday, with despair, depression Telling me I am not whole. All my hope seems dead forever, Then within my silent gloom Shine a far and distant glimmer - Is it coming from a tomb? Sunday’s coming! All those shadows Will be flooded with His light! Sunday’s sure!...and Heav’n rejoices As they see the garden sight! Sunday! - Oh, my heart is flying! Yes! The victory is won! Sunday! Sunday! We are victors For the work on Friday done! Joan Clifton Costner All Rights Reserved.