"I think of the Cyrenian
Who crossed the city-gate,
When forth the stream was pouring
That bore thy cruel fate.
* * * *
"I ponder what within him
The thoughts that woke that day
As his unchosen burden
He bore that unsought way.
* * * *
"Yet, tempted he as we are!
O Lord, was thy cross mine?
Am I, like Simon, bearing
A burden that is thine?
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"Thou must have looked on Simon;
Turn, Lord, and look on me
Till I shall see and follow
And bear thy cross for Thee." [1]
[1] Harriet Ware Hall, A Book for Friends, p. 90. (Privately printed.) 1888.
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