The Burden

One grief on me is laid
Each day of every year,
Wherein no soul can aid,
Whereof no soul can hear:
Whereto no end is seen
Except to grieve again--
Ah, Mary Magdalene,
Where is there greater pain?

To dream on dear disgrace
Each hour of every day--
To bring no honest face
To aught I do or say:
To lie from morn till e'en--
To know my lies are vain--
Ah, Mary Magdalene,
Where can be greater pain?

To watch my steadfast fear
Attend mine every way
Each day of every year--
Each hour of every day:
To burn, and chill between--
To quake and rage again--
Ah, Mary Magdalene,
Where shall be greater pain:

One grave to me was given--
To guard till Judgment Day--
But God looked down from Heaven
And rolled the Stone away!
One day of all my years--
One hour of that one day--
His Angel saw my tears
And rolled the Stone away!

Rate this poem: 

Reviews

No reviews yet.