Bright Harvest by Grace Noll Crowell - HTML preview

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.

˙67˙