Anticipation hangs upon the breath
Of every creature dwelling on the earth,
Living in daily dread of pain and death,
Expecting eagerly the royal birth.
To fruitlessness and to corruption bound,
Creation groans in labor long sustained
With hope for when the sons of God are crowned,
The great delivery that God ordained.
So we, the promised sons, with all creation
Groan inwardly as we wait eagerly
To see adoption reach its consummation
To know at last redemption physically.
For we cannot compare our current sorrow
With glories Christ prepares for us tomorrow.