Christ's Heart was wrung for me, if mine is sore;
And if my feet are weary, His have bled;
He had no place wherein to lay His Head;
If I am burdened, He was burdened more.
The cup I drink, He drank of long before;
He felt the unuttered anguish which I dread;
He hungered Who the hungry thousands fed,
And thirsted Who the world's refreshment bore.
If grief be such a looking-glass as shows
Christ's Face and man's in some sort made alike,
Then grief is pleasure with a subtle taste:
Wherefore should any fret or faint or haste?
Grief is not grievous to a soul that knows
Christ comes, -- and listens for that hour to strike.
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Thank you for visiting my blog. Please do not feel you have to comment. I enjoyed writing, listening to God and sharing his toughts. I hope you enjoyed reading, and may God who is able to make all grace, every favour and earthly blessing come to you in abundance, do far above all you can ask or think, according to the power that works within you. Be blessed.