BRIER: GOOD FRIDAY - E. Pauline Johnson Poems


Poems » e. pauline johnson » brier good friday


Because, dear Christ, your tender, wounded arm
    Bends back the brier that edges life's long way,
That no hurt comes to heart, to soul no harm,
    I do not feel the thorns so much to-day.

Because I never knew your care to tire,
    Your hand to weary guiding me aright,
Because you walk before and crush the brier,
    It does not pierce my feet so much to-night.

Because so often you have hearkened to
    My selfish prayers, I ask but one thing now,
That these harsh hands of mine add not unto
    The crown of thorns upon your bleeding brow.