Poetry Archives

Gethsemane, how oft, grown dim,
With bleeding hearts, unpardoned sin,
A Cross with pearls, and gems inlaid,
God’s gift of love, the price prepaid.

These precious pearls were once a tear,
Repentant sighs, a hope, a fear,
But rough seas washed and jewels grew
Until the Cross was pearly hue.

Unnumbered are the pearls and fair,
If burdens of the weary share;
And deeply wrought with threads of gold,
If smiles of peace suppress our woe.

To help Thee, Christ, in saving world,
Forgetting self is rarest pearl,
That brightly glows when righting wrong,
Assisting souls in Thee grow strong.

The Cross that Thou so freely bare
Is covered o’er with pearls of prayer;
On Cross of Love all hopes are stayed,
Each time it’s kissed a pearl’s inlaid.