I MADE the cross myself whose weight Was later laid on me. This thought is torture as I toil Up life's steep Calvary. To think mine own hands drove the nails! I sang a merry song, And chose the heaviest wood I had To build it firm and strong. If I had guessed -- if I had dreamed Its weight was meant for me, I should have made a lighter cross To bear up Calvary! | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...AEOLIAN HARP (1) by WILLIAM ALLINGHAM THE CRUSADERS' MARCH by WILLIAM EDMONSTOUNE AYTOUN A MOTHER'S ANSWER (2) by LILLIE E. BARR THE HERITAGE FOREGONE by WILLIAM ROSE BENET SPRING IN TOWN by WILLIAM CULLEN BRYANT THE LESSER ONES by RICHARD EUGENE BURTON LINES WRITTEN IN ROUSSEAU'S LETTERS OF AN ITALIAN NUN. by GEORGE GORDON BYRON |