HE IS THE LONELY GREATNESS

He is the lonely greatness of the world—

(His eyes are dim),

His power it is holds up the Cross

That holds up Him.

He takes the sorrow of the threefold hour—

(His eyelids close),

Round Him and round, the wind—His Spirit—where

It listeth blows.

And so the wounded greatness of the World

In silence lies—

And death is shattered by the light from out

Those darkened eyes.

Madeleine Caron Rock

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