THE multitude saw but the cross of olive-wood

The Man of Sorrows bore, nor knew how underneath,

Close-pressed upon His heart, a hidden cross He wore,—

A dark and bleeding weight of sin and human woe,

Made heavier with the sentence of God’s broken law,

And crowned with thorns of scornful and malicious hate,—

A cross the world’s Redeemer found on Jordan’s brink,

Nor laid it down until He came to Calvary.

Oft times it seemed He almost craved some human aid,

Some sympathizing heart to share that cruel cross.

Jerusalem, Jerusalem, hadst thou but known

What time that cross bore heaviest on the yearning heart

Of Him, thy King !—And yet, O, slow of faith and  hard

Of heart, “Ye would not,”—and the King passed  on His way;

And of the people, there was none with Him, He trod

Alone the winepress of this dark world’s shame and woe!

Ah! no. we follow in His steps, who went before

Us in the narrow way. We, too, must bear the woe,

Be touched with feeling of the world’s infirmity.—

Its weary weight of sin and curse of broken law.

Let   us, therefore, go forth to Him, “without the gate,

Lay down our lives in sacrifice, spend and be spent,

And, while we clasp this cross more closely to our breast,

Press on toward Calvary, for there our Bridegroom waits

To take the cross of woe, and give the Crown of Joy!

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