Pale white dough, soft as a lamb,
Remind us of a shepherd man,
Who heard the angels singing up above him
Left his flocks on yonder hill
As the sky with glory filled
Ran to tell the Baby that we love Him
Plump, golden loaves
Remind us of the three wise Men
With turbans high and gifts proffered before Him
‘Twas bread He broke to match the wine
To symbolize His love divine
He gave His life, O come let us adore Him!
Five little loaves and some small fish
Made a more than ample dish
For thousands in the Master’s loving hands
So when we trust for every crust
That He provides, rejoice we must:
He hungered, too, and truly understands.
When dough, punched down, then seems to die,
Remember when the Savior, high,
Upon the cross died, too, ‘mid cruel scorning.
Yet yeast, miraculous and humble,
Like faith, though it did seem to stumble
Does rise again, like Him, on Easter morning.