Poems About the Cross

Table of Contents

Good Friday by Christina Rossetti
The Mystery by Amos Russel Wells
"The Kingdom of Heaven Is Near You." by Amos Russel Wells
The Thorn in the Flesh by Amos Russel Wells
He Shall Save His People From Their Sins by E. N. S.
Herein is Love by E. N. S.
On the Crucifixion of Our Savior by Eliza Wolcott
On Looking at a Picture of the Crucifixion by E. N. S.
The Crucified of Galilee by Helen M. Johnson

Good Friday

by Christina Rossetti

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Am I a stone and not a sheep
That I can stand, O Christ, beneath Thy Cross,
To number drop by drop Thy Blood's slow loss,
And yet not weep?

Not so those women loved
Who with exceeding grief lamented Thee;
Not so fallen Peter weeping bitterly;
Not so the thief was moved;

Not so the Sun and Moon
Which hid their faces in a starless sky,
A horror of great darkness at broad noon,—
I, only I.

Yet give not o'er,
But seek Thy sheep, true Shepherd of the flock;
Greater than Moses, turn and look once more
And smite a rock.
The Mystery

by Amos Russel Wells

One mystery there is, and one alone,
Baffles the human spirit with despair,
Filches the very sunlight from the air.
And wrenches every breath into a groan.
Oh, it is when our loved, our very own,
The good,—so good! the fair,—so dearly fair!
Are doomed some awful agony to bear.
And all their sweet, pure life becomes a moan.
Send us, O God! amid our aching tears
The memory of Thine accepted fate,—
Thy Son, Thy best beloved, torn with spears
Of all our mortal woes disconsolate;
So that our mystery of pain appears
A mystery of love and not of hate.
"The Kingdom of Heaven Is Near You."

by Amos Russel Wells

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All power is near. The sun flings everywhere
Its energetic treasures through the air.
The sea's impulsion beats around the world,
Through all the sky electric force is hurled,
And close by every trembling human fear
The undefeated might of God is near.

All loveliness is near. The common eye
Drinks beauty from the bowl of every sky.
There's not a weed, there's not a dusty clod,
But shines with all the radiance of God.
There's not a human heart, however drear,
But all celestial fairnesses are near.

All good is near. The bird-songs are not far,
To all horizons circles every star,
The sea, the air, the mountain, field, and wood
Are packed with providence and crammed with food,
And wheresoe'er an eyelid holds a tear
The unimagined peace of God is near.

But we are far. Alas, what bridge can span
The dark withdrawal of the heart of man?
What lavish infinites suffice to fill
The awful chasms and gulfs of human will?
Yet even here—thank God! yes, even here
The reaching Cross of Calvary is near.
The Thorn in the Flesh

by Amos Russel Wells

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A fragment of the Saviour's crown of thorns
I carry, buried deep within my brain;
At noons and nights and dull, foreboding morns
It beats, the heart of pain.

And ever, in my agonies of prayer.
Gazing on Calvary I chide my soul;
"Be still! the merest fragment thou dost bear,
And He endured the whole!"

As creatures crude, ungraced with any thought,
Lost in the ocean's least considered swirl,
Around some festering grain of sand have wrought
That miracle, a pearl.

So I will press my life-blood's patient flow
Against my thorn, and seal the layers down
Till all its surfaces with splendor glow,
A ruby, for a crown!
He Shall Save His People From Their Sins

by E. N. S.

What, my heart, again backsliding,
Why wilt thou from Jesus flee?
Still deceitful, still deceiving!
Why forsake the narrow way?
Does the Saviour's cross alarm thee?
Is the yoke too much to bear?
Or does smiling pleasure hire thee,
With her baneful gilded snare?
Shun, oh! shun, the vain deceiver,
Look not on the glitt'ring bait;
Remorse and sorrow chaseth ever
Those who dwell within her gates;
But return to Jesus, mourning,
Humbly to His foot-stool flee;
He will pardon thee returning,
Graciously He'll pardon thee.
Now take up the cross with pleasure,
'Tis an easy yoke to bear!
This the christian's greatest treasure,
We are His peculiar care.

And she shall bring forth a son, and thou shalt call his name JESUS: for he shall save his people from their sins.

– Matthew 1:21
KJV

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Herein is Love

by E. N. S.

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Oh, wond'rous love! the Father gave
His only Son to seek and save
Poor sinners that were lost;
Our souls were His peculiar care,
All our iniquities he bare
Himself upon the cross.

And did the Saviour bleed for me,
Expire upon the accursed tree,
To expiate my guilt?
For me was wounded, bruis'd, and torn,
His sacred temples pierc'd with thorns,
His precious blood was spilt!

The sorrows of Gethsamane,
The agonies of Calvary,
For sinners were endured;
But the affliction, grief, and pain,
The blessed Saviour did sustain,
Salvation hath procured!

Oh! may the Lord for ever be
The source of my felicity,
His laws be my delight;
And may His holy spirit rest
For evermore within my breast,
And guide my steps aright!

¹⁰Herein is love, not that we loved God, but that he loved us, and sent his Son to be the propitiation for our sins.

– 1 John 4:10
KJV

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³³And when they were come to the place, which is called Calvary, there they crucified him, and the malefactors, one on the right hand, and the other on the left. ³⁴Then said Jesus, "Father, forgive them; for they know not what they do." And they parted his raiment, and cast lots.

– Luke 23:33-34
KJV

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On the Crucifixion of Our Savior

by Eliza Wolcott

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Day of days, his people crown'd him,
But the crown was not of love;
And on his crown they smote to wound him,
Lord of all the worlds above.

Milder than the blushing morning,
Was his heavenly aspect fair;
He beheld their cruel scornings;
None remember'd Bethlehem's Star.

He fulfil'd the glorious presage,
Took the sin and bore the shame,
And thus show'd his heavenly message;
O love immutable, the same.

Saints your life is in this blessing,
Christ has pointed you the way,
Sinners kneel to God, confessing
Crimes which he can wash away.
On Looking at a Picture of the Crucifixion

by E. N. S.

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Turn from the world mine eyes and see
This mournful sight of Calvary;
See Him expiring on the cross,
The Son of God! to ransom us.

Behold His feet, His hands, how torn!
His sacred temples pierced with thorns:
An emblem of the curse He bore
For us, our lost estate t' restore.

"'Tis finished!" the Redeemer cried,
Then bow'd His sacred head and died;
The price is paid, the prisoners freed,
And death and hell are captive led.

Then from the cross He's taken down,
Securely laid within the tomb;
From whence He rose, and lives on high,
To plead for us eternally.
The Crucified of Galilee

by Helen M. Johnson

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Methought I stood, at close of day,
Where soft the balmy breezes play,
And bright beneath the Eastern skies
The sacred hills of Canaan rise,
And saw him on the shameful tree,—
The Crucified of Galilee!

I heard the mocking throng deride
The anguish of the Crucified;
I saw the brilliant sun grow dim;
I heard creation shriek for him;
I saw him die, and die for me,—
The Crucified of Galilee!

And then I saw the veil upraised
From the eternal world, and gazed
Upon the scene in deep surprise;
One form alone could fix my eyes;
I knew him, yes, indeed 'twas he,—
The Crucified of Galilee!

And though upon his lovely brow
A beam of glory rested now;
Though angels praised his holy name;
Yet still I knew he was the same
Who hung upon the shameful tree,—
The Crucified of Galilee!

I knew him by his tender air;
I knew him by the fervent prayer
He breathed for those for whom he died;
I knew him by his wounded side;
By these I knew that it was he,—
The Crucified of Galilee!

I knew him by the loving smile
With which he welcomed sinners vile;
I knew him, for he took a share
In all his children's griefs and care;
I knew him by his love for me,—
The Crucified of Galilee!

The vision faded from afar;
But still 't is memory's guiding star,
To cheer the night and point a way
Unto an everlasting day,
When I, with unveiled eyes, shall see
The Crucified of Galilee!

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