Like the monarch in regal array,
Wings its journey from day to day.
So His people through dangers all,
Wing their way to heavens portal.
Strengthened along each weary step,
Burdened with cares that oft could wreck,
They find Him in a solace deep.
For like the monarch their souls He keeps.
Till like the butterfly in robes of gold,
In robes of white we enter His fold.
By: Deane Wassink