Simon the Cyrenian Speaks

He never spoke a word to me,
       And yet He called my name;
He never gave a sign to me,
       And yet I knew he came.

At first I said, "I will not bear
       His cross upon my back;
He only seeks to place it there
       Because my skin is black."

But He was dying for a dream,
       And He was very meek.
And in His eyes there shone a gleam
       Men journey far to seek.

It was Himself my pity bought,
       I did for Christ alone
What all of Rome could not have wrought
       With bruise of lash or stone.