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| AM I a stone and not a sheep |
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| That I can stand, O Christ, beneath Thy Cross, |
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| To number drop by drop Thy Blood’s slow loss, |
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| And yet not weep? |
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| Not so those women loved |
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| Who with exceeding grief lamented Thee; |
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| Not so fallen Peter weeping bitterly; |
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| Not so the thief was moved; |
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| Not so the Sun and Moon |
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| Which hid their faces in a starless sky, |
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| A horror of great darkness at broad noon— |
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| I, only I. |
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| Yet give not o’er, |
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| But seek Thy sheep, true Shepherd of the flock; |
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| Greater than Moses, turn and look once more |
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| And smite a rock. |
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