Christina Rossetti: Good Friday

Good Friday

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 loved   Who with exceeding grief lamented Thee;   Not so fallen Peter weeping bitterly; Not so the thief was moved;
Not so the Sun and Moon   Which hid their faces in a starless sky,   A horror of great darkness at broad noon— I, only I.
Yet give not o'er,   But seek Thy sheep, true Shepherd of the flock;   Greater than Moses, turn and look once more And smite a rock.