I am a novelty to most,
A treasure to but two or three,
One face amidst history’s host,
But who am I to thee?

I am an upright man to most,
A sinner to but two or three,
One saint amidst the sacred host,
But who am I to thee?

I am unworthy, more than most,
A traitor to the one-in-three,
One soul amidst a sinful host.
Oh, who am I to thee?

I am a son because the most
August of sons rose morning three
With freedom for the captive host,
For he was truly thee.

I am yours to the uttermost,
A slave no more to two or three,
One voice, known, singing with your host.
E’er more am I to thee.

Photo by youssef naddam on Unsplash