Written beneath a Crucifix

He hath not guessed Christ's agony,
He hath not dreamed his bitterest woe,
Who hath not worn the crown of love
And felt the crown of anguish so.

Ah, not the torments of the cross,
Or nails that pierced, or thirst that burned,
Heightened the kingly Victim's pain,
But grief of griefs, — His love was spurned!
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