He'd bartered his soul a few years to live,
And sinking the grave has nothing to give,
Unloved and embittered e'en cross once refused,
Gleamed sadly through mists then slowly withdrew.

Our vision once more life's curtain unrolled,
And walked beside one with jewels untold,
Unfurrowed his brow though whitened the hair,
Eternally blest when freed earthly care.
The cross he'd accepted oft' riven in tears,
And humble his walk through life's fleeting years,
Had given sweet peace as only those know
Who've tasted of wealth Christs' love doth bestow.




~The Chosen City.~


On starlit height, distant 'gainst horizon, bright
The Way of the Cross is outlined,
By rocky steeps barren 'mid dangers unseen,
A narrow straight pathway doth wind.
The sighing winds whisper of sacrifice, toil,
And foot-prints where pilgrims have trod
Are crimson and tear-washed, where fissures are rent
Wierd spirits of pain flit abroad.

A woman in sadness e'er watching this Cross