Am I a stone, and not a sheep,That I can stand, O Christ, beneath Thy cross,To number drop by drop Thy blood’s slow loss,And yet not weep? Not so those women lovedWho with exceeding grief lamented Thee;Not so fallen Peter, weeping bitterly;Not so the thief was moved; Not so the Sun and MoonWhich hid their … Continue reading “Good Friday” by Christina Rossetti