Do you feel the pain of nails, thrust through your tender hands, <br />Do you feel those evil thorns, a crown twisted in bands, <br />The excruciating agony, of iron pierced through your feet, <br />The shame of being spat upon, on a Roman pebbled street, <br /> <br />Do you feel that wretched whip, draw blood upon your back, <br />Hear the scourge’s mocking cries; the whip’s report and crack. <br />Do you share His anguish, when by God He was forsaken. <br />Disciples all but one had fled, as His righteous life was taken. <br /> <br />Have you carried His cursed cross, for just a pace or two, <br />Have you heard His cries, His pleas, bourn down in time to you. <br />Have you ever wept aloud, for this price He paid for sin. <br />Do you believe He died for you and His Spirit dwells within. <br /> <br />If your heart, spirit, mind and soul, have never felt His sword, <br />Then without doubt my friend, “You know not…my precious Lord”<br /><br />Alf Hutchison<br /><br />http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/7-do-you-know-my-lord/
