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Into Sheol He strode, dauntless
Though blood was thick upon His brow
The brass gates behind lying twisted
Like His crown of thorny boughs.
Screaming foul fury and terror
Legions fled before His bleeding tread
For this one moving strong among them
Was God of the living, and not the dead.
From the bosom of Abraham He took
And turned once more into the night
In the darkness of cold Earth above
He would be the first resurrected light.
The firstborn of the dead led them forth
Triumphant, Hades was harrowed for New Zion
And who could ever dare stand against Him?
For this Aslan was never a tame lion.
S.K.Downes
