At the drowsy dusk when the shadows creep <br />From the golden west, where the sunbeams sleep, <br /> <br />An angel mused: "Is there good or ill <br />In the mad world's heart, since on Calvary's hill <br /> <br />'Round the cross a mid-day twilight fell <br />That darkened earth and o'ershadowed hell?" <br /> <br />Through the streets of a city the angel sped; <br />Like an open scroll men's hearts he read. <br /> <br />In a monarch's ear his courtiers lied <br />And humble faces hid hearts of pride. <br /> <br />Men's hate waxed hot, and their hearts grew cold, <br />As they haggled and fought for the lust of gold. <br /> <br />Despairing, he cried, "After all these years <br />Is there naught but hatred and strife and tears?" <br /> <br />He found two waifs in an attic bare; <br />-- A single crust was their meagre fare -- <br /> <br />One strove to quiet the other's cries, <br />And the love-light dawned in her famished eyes <br /> <br />As she kissed the child with a motherly air: <br />"I don't need mine, you can have my share." <br /> <br />Then the angel knew that the earthly cross <br />And the sorrow and shame were not wholly loss. <br /> <br />At dawn, when hushed was earth's busy hum <br />And men looked not for their Christ to come, <br /> <br />From the attic poor to the palace grand, <br />The King and the beggar went hand in hand.<br /><br />John McCrae<br /><br />http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/the-shadow-of-the-cross/
