Peter, outworn,
And menaced by the sword,
Shook off the dust of Rome;
And, as he fled,
Met one, with eager face,
Hastening cityward,
And, to his vast amaze,
It was The Lord.
"_Lord, whither goest Thou_?"
He cried, importunate,
And Christ replied,--
"_Peter, I suffer loss.
I go to take thy place,
To bear thy cross_."

Then Peter bowed his head,
Discomforted;
There, at the Master's feet,
Found grace complete,
And courage, and new faith,
And turned--with Him,
To Death.

So we,--
Whene'er we fail
Of our full duty,
Cast on Him our load,--
Who suffered sore for us,