FAITHFUL CROSS
Reading edition
Strange, that his sorrow should Only be understood By two rough pieces of wood. The friends that lingered there, However true they were, Had grief of their own to bear. They stood and mourned apart: With but half a heart For his sorrow and smart; They mourned, and went their way Into Heaven to be gay. The Cross is faithful to this day. O Tree of Life, that root Hast not, nor hope of shoot, Nor but this one sad fruit— Thou, not Mary or John— Thou, that he died upon He chose for his eidòlon. Though he by a word or two Or a look, men’s hearts could woo And knit, as none else could do; Not one of the brotherhood To whom he did good, But two rough pieces of wood, Hewn-off, exanimate, Could carry and constate His and his sorrow’s weight.