Simon, the Cyrenian
I
THINK it must have been an afternoon
Of silver wind and glinting April light
When Simon, the Cyrenian, walked down
A country lane, and came in sudden sight
Of a mocking, howling throng, and in its midst
A man bowed down beneath a cross; and he,
Standing amazed, was signaled out to bear
That cross . . . Oh, surely throughout Eternity
This humble man, who was hitherto unsung,
Must wear his robes with dignity and grace;
Surely remembering that afternoon,
There dawns a radiant light upon his face.
He had given his muscled strength that far-off day,
And his Friday afternoon was sacrificed;
But of all the earth, he was the only one
Chosen in that strange way to serve the Christ.
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