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. @3"Lord, whither goest Thou?"@1 He cried, importunate; And Christ replied, -- @3"Peter, I suffer loss. I go to take thy place, To bear thy cross."@1 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, -- On Him who suffered sore for us, On Him who frail flesh wore for us, On Him who all things bore for us, -- On Christ, the Lord. |